1 



THE 

t 

SON OF THE WILDERNESS. 

A DRAMATIC POEM, 

IN FIVE ACTS. 



SON OF THE WILDERNESS. 

A DRAMATIC POEM, 

IN FIVE ACTS. 

BY FRIEDRICH HALM. 
[BARON munch-bellinghausen.] 



TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN, 

BY CHARLES EDWARD ANTHON. 




NEW-YORK : 

PRINTED FOR THE TRANSLATOR BY H. LUDWIG & CO. 
No. 70 Vesey- street. 

1848. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1848, by 

CHARLES EDWARD A N T H O N, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
Southern District of New- York. 



v 

V."" < v 



TO 



GEORGE H. PENDLETON, ESQ., 

OF 

CINCINNATI. 



My Dear Pendleton, 

You first called my atten- 
tion to this Dramatic Poem ; and I therefore think it but 
just to dedicate to you the translation ; should it bring me 
honour, you are, on that account, entitled to your share of 
it ; and should my little venture meet with ill success, I 
shall throw some of the blame on your shoulders, as an in- 
stigator and accomplice before the fact. 

When you first spoke to me of the pleasure you had en- 
joyed in witnessing a representation of this piece, we were 
at Berlin together, and had just met as strangers from a 



Vi. DEDICATION. 

common and far country, and strangers too, to one another ; 
but we had already begun, for we began with the first hour 
of our acquaintance, to form those ties of mutual friendship 
which now unite us. And truly, my dear fellow, if mutual 
knowledge of character be, as wise men hold, the only safe 
ground for mutual attachment, I think we can lay some 
claim to that ; for, after all our subsequent travels and 
loiterings, after those pedestrian rambles in Switzerland 
which so sorely tried our soles ; and those six rough weeks 
on horseback that we passed in Greece ; after the hard- 
ships of our Syrian tour ; and the tedious monotony of a 
journey across the Desert, I can safely say, that not a nook 
or corner of the heart of each of our trio (for I must not 
forget our trusty comrade R * * * *) was unknown to the 
other two ; seeing that, as an old Spanish proverb hath it : 
" In a long journey, with hard toil and slender fare, a man 
learns to know what his companion is made of." 

After we had returned from our adventures, and parted 
upon the banks of the Rhine, about two years since, I 
wended my way to the learned shades of Heidelberg, and 
there amused the hours of an illness which befell me, by 
translating the first two acts of the play which you had so 
much admired. I must own that I shared in your admira- 
tion when I read the original, and particularly the second, 
third and fourth acts ; and thought at once that it might be 



DEDICATION. 



vii. 



susceptible of an English dress. So I manfully undertook 
the labour of translation, which was however interrupted at 
the end of the second act by a six months' tour which my 
roving spirit led me to make in the romantic land of Spain ; 
and it was not until the past winter that I found leisure to 
finish my most pleasing task. But I have been filling a 
page intended for other eyes beside yours, with details 
which can interest you alone. Let me now pass from 
friendly greetings, and give to the public some account of 
the author, whom I have attempted to render. 

, " Friedrich Halm " is, as you know, merely a poetical 
name, which Baron Munch-Bellinghausen has assumed in 
lieu of his own very Teutonic one. He was born in the 
year 1806 at Cracow, where his father held a post in the 
Austrian service. The first piece which he brought upon the 
stage was " Griseldis," represented in the year 1834 at the 
Theatre of the Imperial Palace at Vienna, with a success 
scarcely inferior to that which the " Son of the Wilder- 
ness" afterwards attained. He subsequently produced 
various other -plays, such as : "The Adept," " Camoens," 
" Imelda Lambertazzi," " A Gentle Judgment ; " and also 
versions of Shakspeare's Cymbeline, and of a drama by 
Lope de Vega. All these, with the exception of the last, 
met with but little favour ; but " The Son of the Wilder- 
ness," which succeeded them and was first performed in the 



Viii. DEDICATION. 

year 1842, is generally regarded as the author's master- 
piece, and is extremely popular in Germany both as an acting 
and reading play. This is attested by the frequency with 
which it is performed and the number of editions through 
which it has passed. The one I have made use of in 
making my translation is the fourth, published at Vienna in 
1845. Baron Mimch-Bellinghausen now occupies the office 
of chief librarian of the Imperial Library. 

I owe an apology to my author for two liberties that I 
have taken with his text. He makes Ingomar a chieftain 
of the " Tectosages," a name uncouth to the last degree to 
a poetical ear, even with the aid of the false quantity to 
which he has had recourse, in order to improve it. He 
pronounces the word " Tectosagen." I have made bold to 
substitute " Ligurians," which has a more melodious sound, 
while the change violates no geographical conditions, ex- 
cept so far as regards the Arverni, or " Avernier," (as he 
calls them,) whom I have accordingly ousted and replaced 
by " Helvetians." 

It has been my aim to give my performance as little as 
possible the air of a translation ; and yet, with the two ex- 
ceptions I have mentioned, it will be found by no means an 
unfaithful version. But I am anticipating the judgment of 
the public. Would that I were as sure of its indulgence a« 



DEDICATION. IX, 

I am of yours ! I only wish to say, that I have written al- 
together in foreign countries, and therefore without any of 
that aid from literary friends in the way of hints and correc- 
tions which must be so useful in a work of this description. 
Having thus put in my plea for favour, I throw myself on 
the mercy of critics, and remain 

Ever yours, faithfully, 

C. E. A. 

Paris, March 10th, 1848- 



I* 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



► Citizens of Massalia. 



The Timarch of Massalia. 
Polydore, a Merchant, ~\ 
Myron, an Armourer, 
Adrastus, 
Amyntas, 
Elpenor, 

Lycon, a Fisherman. 

Ingomar, Chieftain of a horde of Ligurians. 
Alastor, 
Trinobant, 
Ambivar, 
Novio, 
Samo, 
ActjEA, Myron's Wife. 

Parthenia, Daughter of Myron and Act&a. 
Theano, a neighbour of Myron's. 

A Herald, Members of the Council of Massalia, Citi- 
zens and Women, Ligurians. 



Ligurians. 



The Scene is in Gaul, a hundred years after the foun- 
dation of Massalia by the Phocaeans. 



Represented for the first time at the Palace Theatre, in Vienna, 
on the 28th of January, 1842. 



i 



THE SON OP THE WILDERNESS. 



ACT I. 

SCENE, Massalia : the Market-place ; in the fore- 
ground on the right, Myron's house. 

Actma sitting on the threshold of the house; at her feet ; 
a step lower, Parthenia, spinning with a distaff; 
at her side a basket of flax. 

ACTJEA. 

Bethink thee, child, that Polydore is rich, 
A man of vigorous years, a widower, true, 
But rich, a man of station and of credit, 
And courts thee for his wife. 

parthenia {rising). 

The sun is setting ; 
I 've spun enough, methinks, for this day's labour, 
The olives at our neighbour's must be gathered, 
And so I '11 hie me thither. 

ACTJSA. 

No ! remain ! 
For once I will be heard, thou giddy one ! 



14 the son of [Act 

Enough have childish follies, freaks, caprices, 
Been thy delight ; the time at last has come 
To moderate thy wild, inconstant nature, 
And seriously give heed to serious words. 

parthenia (sitting down again). 
I 'm list'ning, mother. 

ACT.3EA. 

So thou tell'st me ever, 
And, while I talk, thy truant fancy roves 
O'er hill and dale, as thou thyself art wont, 
The live -long day in chase of butterflies. 
'T is now full time with thy spring's youthful graces 
To lay up for the autumn. Only youth 
Woos love, and youth is gone, before we think ; 
But the sad lot of the unmarried, is 
A lone old age, and every fool's derision ; 
And this lot will be thine, because thy mind 
Befuses heed to sage advice, and bids 
The gods defiance. Medon first of all 
Didst thou reject 

PARTHENIA. 

Why he was old, and lame, 
And ne'er spoke but to chide. 

ACT2EA. 

Evander too. 

' PARTHENIA. 

So redolent of herbs, and oils, and ointments ! 



Act L] the wilderness. 15 

To be with him was worse than to take physic ! 

act^a (springing up in anger, while Parthenia con- 
tinues to spin). 
Bight ! Go thou on ! Tread fortune under foot ! 
Repentance never failed to wait on Folly. 
Thou think' st perhaps, that on thy tree of life 
There blooms for thee some rare and wond'rous lot ; 
Forsooth, thou'rt handsome, and canst think right 

soundly, 
And rich, no doubt. 

parthenia (springing up). 

Young am I, gay, and happy, 
(Embracing her mother.) 
My mother loves me, and what need I more ? 

ACT^IA. 

Loves thee ! — Yes ! though so little thou deserv'st it ; 
By all the gods ! we love thee — heartily — 
Yet no ! why do I fold thee in my arms ? 
I 'm angry with thee — bitterly. — Away ! 
We love thee, but thou hast no love for us ; 
'Tis but to brave us that thou wilt not marry ; 
Thou 'st taken it perhaps into thy head 
To wait till the man in the moon shall come to court 
thee! 

parthenia (after a pause). 
Mother ! I '11 tell you what 't is that I wait for ; 



16 the son op [Act I. 

Though I was yet a child, I marked it well ; 

You spoke to me of Hero and Leander, 

And of their love ; but when I sought to know 

What Love might be, you answered with a smile, 

And told me, how Love springs up and waxes, 

And shines with sudden light in darksome breasts, 

While every pulse speaks out : 'T is he ! he bears 

Within his breast a portion of thy soul ! 

Oh let me live for him, and with him perish ! 

These were your words ; I heard and marked them well 5 

And then, when Medon and Evander came 

To woo, I laid my hand upon my heart 

At stolen minutes, hearkened to its beating, 

Listened and listened, but my heart was still ; 

And so, I wait until it speak its will! 

ACT^A; 

What say'st thou ? Had I then 

{Aside.) Ye bounteous gods ! 
How our old tongues run on to youthful hearts ! 

(Aloud.) 

Thou silly child ! for this then 't is thou 'rt waiting ? 

Thy heart must speak ? Give up that foolish notion ! 

If e'er I did relate that stupid fable, 

'T was but a jest, an idle nursery- tale, 

And hides beneath sweet words, fantastic dreams ; 

Open thine eyes to plain reality, 



Act L] the wilderness. 

And grasp Occasion by its scanty hair ! 
No second Polydore will ever court thee, 
So rich, so honourable. — 

PARTHENIA. 

So honourable ! 
And drives close bargains for poor father's wares, 
Higgles and saves 

ACTiEA. 

Say rather that he is 
A prudent manager, and when thou 'rt once 
His wife, he may become much more. For once 
Be serious ! say " Yes ! " and so repay 
Our love ! say " Yes ! " my child ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Henceforth, dear moth< 
I will no more through wood and meadow rove, 
Will sit at home like other maidens, vex you 
No more, read all your wishes in your eyes ; 
But that — that Polydore, I cannot, will not, 
Never can wed him ! 

ACTiEA. 

Indeed ! 

PARTHENIA. 

You 're angry, 
But 'tis the truth, and so I must speak plainly. 

ACTJBA. 

And I must tell thee too, that we, thy parents, 



18 the son of [Act I. 

Are growing old, and long to taste of rest ; 

Our house and little farm are deep in debt ; 

Thy father is an humble armourer, 

The field his toil by day, the forge by night ; 

And when the plough rests, he must leave his home, 

As even now, laden with heavy arms, 

To sell among the neighbouring villages. 

PARTHENIA. 

Poor father ! 

ACT.ZEA. 

I, am yet more to be pitied. 
I, stay at home, but my care wanders forth 
And bears with him the burthen of his wares ; 
With him, climbs panting up the rugged steep ; 
I feel the storms that tear his hoary locks ; 
The rain that beats upon his aged head ; 
My fancy pictures him in some dark glen 
Waylaid by wild Allobroges ; or, worse 
Than they, the fierce Ligurians rush on him, 
Rob, murder — So I weep and weep, but thou, 
His darling, thou, the apple of his eye, 
For whose sake 't is he ventures life and limb, 
Thou might' st end all his toils, and dry my tears, 
With one word make us happy, and withal 
Crown thine own fortune ; but thou wilt not do it ; 
Ungrateful girl ! so I must tell thee plainly ! 

(She goes into the house.) 



ACT I.] THE WILDERNESS. 19 

parthenia [after a pause). 

Ungrateful ! No ! I call the gods to witness ! 

I am not thankless, I am not ungrateful ! 

Is it for me then that the rude storm beats 

On that gray head ? Is it for me that, sighing, 

My father climbs the hills with heavy burdens ? 

'T is the last time ! I '11 let my mother see 

She wrongs me. I 'li at once — What can I do ? 

Become that trader's wife ? Immortal gods ! 

The thought distracts me ; 't would be living death ! 

And yet, why do I grieve ? My days are flying ; 

And, though the future lay so bright before me, 

Though my heart spoke, in language full of meaning, 

Of rapture yet unknown ; my mother says 

Love 's but a dream, an idle nursery tale ; 

And so at last there is no truth on earth ; 

The sweetest charm of life is but a fancy, 

Built on no more than daily common -place ; 

If it be so, by Heaven my loss is nothing ! 

I '11 spare my sighing for a worse occasion, 

Although 1 fear no worse can ever come 

Than giving up the fairy dreams of youth ; 

Yet, be it as it may — away reflection ! 

My father shall no longer toil for me ! 

N[o longer — who is that? 'Tis Polydore. 

(Is about to withdraw.) 



20 the son of [Act I. 

Yet no, I '11 stay ; since in this business 

My happiness is to be bargained for ; 

I '11 know the price that 's bid before I sell it. 

'Tis Polydore indeed, see how he struts, 

Tosses his head, and throws his brow in wrinkles ! 

Pride speaks in every look, in e^ery gesture ; 

And I his wife — I feel my heart's blood freeze. 

{She pretends to be occupied with her distaff, while 
Polydore advances in the back- ground.) 

polydore (without observing Parthenia.) 
It will not do, this slave wastes all my substance ; 
Turn him away I might ; but then, the children — 
I cannot watch them all in the same minute — 
I must have a good housewife ! 

parthenia (aside). 

One would think 
The world's salvation rested on his shoulders, 
And yet I '11 wager that he 's counting up 
To find how some odd farthing's gone astray. 

polydore. 
'T is true that my poor Callinice's loss 
Can never be repaired ! dear, faithful soul ! 
She knew how to lay up ! But, after all, 
The armourer's daughter cannot fail to make 
A stirring housekeeper ; if I choose her, 
I '11 make a prudent choice — why see, she 's here ! 



ACT I.] THE WILDERNESS. 21 

I hail this meeting as a heavenly omen. 
G-ood day, Parthenia ; good day, my child ! 

PARTHENIA. 

" G-ood evening," rather, as the sun is setting. 

POLYDORE. 

And yet "good day," so must I ever greet you ; 
There is no sunset where your bright eyes beam. 

parthenia (aside). 
How hard he tries to smile and look engaging ! 

(Aloud.) 

I pray you, truce to all such pretty speeches, 
And let us gravely talk on grave affairs ; 
I hear, you think of taking me to wife ? 

polydore (aside). 
Methinks she 's somewhat forward. Ah ! I see ! 
Her love 's impatience cannot brook delay. 

(Aloud.} 

I have some thoughts of it. 

parthenia. 

So mother tells me ; 
And, though surprised that your choice falls on me, 
That Callinice is so soon forgotten ! 

POLYDORE. 

Forgotten ! No ! A man like me forgets not 
His heavy losses, whether land or money, 
Or money's worth, and that was Callinice ; 



22 the son of [Act I. 

But many a weighty reason urges me 

To a new marriage ; first of all, my children 

PARTHENIA. 

Poor orphans ! 

P0LYD0RE. 

They ! Oh, you can spare your pity ! 
A dainty, greedy set of most unruly, 
Rebellious rogues ! And now shall I lay out 
A good round sum of money to procure 
A pedagogue from Samos or Miletus ? 
Is not rude strength best tamed by gentleness ? 
And I know you are gentle 

PARTHENIA. 

Gentle ? Yes ! 

{Aside.) 

Even as the lamb, though to the slaughter led ! 

POLYDORE. 

Besides, my business so often takes me 
From home, now to the port, now to the market ; 
And shall meanwhile a slave watch house and home, 
Store-rooms and well-filled chests? How much more 
trusty 

A wife, a faithful wife ! And, to sum up, 
Although I 'm hearty still, and feel, at times, 
Quite young again, yet messengers announce 
The approach of age : a gray hair, now and then. 



t 



ACT I.] THE WILDERNESS. 

Attracts my eye, or gouty twinges dart 
Along my limbs ; and who will nurse me then, 
Keep the room warm, and make me savoury broths, 
And draughts of wholesome herbs ? Only a wife, 
A loving wife. 

parthenia (aside). 
Ye gods ! my courage fails. 

polydore. 

There's yet another reason, brightly shining 
In your sweet eyes, blooming upon your cheeks ; 

It is, my rose-bud, 

parthenia. 

No ! I pray you keep 
That reason to yourself, and tell me one thing : 
You know my father labours in the field 
Or at the anvil, carries on his shoulders 
His heavy wares to distant purchasers, 
And yet is faint with years, and needs repose ; 
Say, will you think of this, when I am yours ? 

POLYDORE. 

Why certainly I'll think of it ! Why not ? 
I'll give the matter my profound attention. 

PARTHENIA. 

But tell me what you'll do for my poor father? 

POLYDORE. 

Do ? Why how can you ask ? Ah ! my good girl, 
'T is not for me to trumpet my own praises ; 



24 the son of [Act 

But yet, I '11 do whatever you can wish ; 

And, first of all, your father will become 

My father-in-law, he '11 be a near relation 

To Polydore, to the rich Polydore ; 

And know that my long line springs from the gods ! 

Think, what an honour : from the gods, my child ! 

PARTHENIA. 

It may be so, but honour is not bread. 

POLYDORE. 

Let not that trouble you, for I '11 still take 
Your father's wares, as I have done till now, 
At fair and honest prices 

PARTHENIA. 

At fair prices ! 
Is that the limit of your wondrous bounty ? 

POLYDORE. 

And one thing more : — now mark me, my good girl, 
And bear it well in mind ! — I'll marry you 
Without a portion ; as you live and breathe, 
Without a single drachma will I take you ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Are you in earnest ? Will you really do 
All that for my old father ? 

POLYDORE. 

'T is much, 't is true : 

Perhaps too much. 



Act I.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



25 



PARTHENIA. 

By all the gods, it is ! — 
It is too much ! And so a pleasant evening ! 

(Is about to leave him.) 

POLYDORE. 

Stay ! let me hear your answer ere you leave me. 

PARTHENIA. 

Yes ! you shall have an answer. Mark me well ! 

Seek out a pedagogue for your wild brats, 

At any price, where'er one may be found ; 

To guard your house, look well to locks and bolts ; 

And when you 're sick, you '11 find at yonder corner 

A huckster, who has wholesome herbs on sale, 

And with them you can make your own sick- draughts ; 

But know, there grows on earth to me no herb 

So bitter as your loathed presence ! • Mark it well ! 

This is my answer, may it now content you ! 

(She goes into the house, - ) 

polydore (having gazed after her for a while, with an 

air of stupefaction.) 

What ! Bid I hear aright ? Am I rejected ? 

I, the rich Polydore ? The armourer's daughter 

Refuses me, the offspring of the gods ! 

Scorns me, and says so to my very face, 

As if I were her father's journeyman, 

And laughs at me, to boot ? On earth no herb 
2 



26 the son of [Act I. 

So bitter as my loathed presence ! Ay ! it shall 
Be bitter to yon, and to all yonr race ! 
Henceforth let that old blear-eyed rascal forge 
His arms to his own ruin ! Not a blade 
Will I take from him. I '11 buy up the claims 
Of all his creditors, vex him with lawsuits, 
And drive him, with that saucy girl of his, 
From house and home, ay ! from the very city : 
I will not rest until his fate 's accomplished. 
( While he walks up and down in violent agitation, Ly- 
con, the fisherman, appears in the hack-ground.} 

LYCON. 

The people said, " Straight down the street, then round 

The corner, and the first house on the right 

From the fountain." Then it must be this. Ho, there ! 

(He goes to the home next to that of Myron, and knocks 
at the door.) 

Within ! open the door, good people ! 'T is in vain 
To shut your ears and feign to be all deaf. 
Misfortune knocks too loud, and in the end 
You'll have to listen. 

polydore (aside.) 

What can this man want ? 
theano (opening the door of her house.) 
Who knocks there ? 

. LYCON. . ) 

Come out ! 



Act I.] THE WILDERNESS. 27 

THEANO. 

What's the matter ? Tell me ! 

LYCON. 

Are you the wife of Myron, the old armourer ? 

THEANO. 

1 1 No, my husband's dead. 

LYCON. 

Then thank the gods ! 
For death is better far than slavery. 

THEANO. 

How ? What ? Mean you that Myron — 

LYCON. 

Is a prisoner ; 

And carried off by wild Ligurians. 

polydore (aside.) 
Aha ! that comes just in the nick of time ! 

THEANO. 

Myron carried off prisoner ? 

LYCON. 

Yes, I saw it 

With my own eyes. 

THEANO. 

Ye everlasting gods ! 
Old Myron — see, there go two friends of his ! 
(To Adrastus and EJpenor, who are passing in the 

back- ground.) 
Adrastus ! Elpenor ! This man brings news 



28 the son of [Act I. 

That Myron has been taken prisoner, 
And carried off by the Ligurians ! 

ADRASTUS. 

How ? can it be ? 

ELPENOR. 

How did it happen ? Speak ! 

kYCON. 

As I was in a wood by the sea- shore, 
Fashioning a sail-yard for my little boat, 
There came along a man, heavily laden ; 
The bushes hid me from his view, and he 
Lay down, a bow-shot from me, on the moss ; 
When suddenly yells ring through all the thicket, 
And the barbarians, like howling wolves, appear. 

polydore (aside.) 
Avenging gods ! this is your work. 
ACTiEA (appears with a maid on the threshold of her 

house, and descends the steps.) 
As usual, that careless girl has left 
Her distaff here. Take it into the house ! 

lycon (to Theano, Adrastus, and Elpenor.) 
The old man could not but submit, and so 
His little store was quickly made away with. 
actjea (to the maid, who has meanwhile taken up the 
distaff. ) 

The basket too. (the maid goes into the house with the 
distaff and basket.) 



Act I.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



29 



LYCON. 

They asked him then what trade 

He followed ; and when he replied : " I am 

An armourer," they raised a general shout 

Of joy and exultation at their prize ; 

He must go with them to the mountains ; hound, 

And with his gray hair streaming in the wind, 

They drove him forth. 

ACTjEA (after following the maid up the steps of the 
house, stopping suddenly short upon the threshold.) 

Gray hair ! An armourer ! 
Bound ! Driven ! Speak ! Tell me ! Who was the man? 

(descending the steps.) 
Tell me, I say, who was that armourer ? 

lycon (after a pause, to the rest, who stand with down- 
cast eyes.) 

Is that his wife ? 

ACTiEA. 

Yes ! I am Myron's wife ! 
Ye gods ! Can Myron he — no ! no ! — hut why, 
Why are you dumb ? Tell me you were not talking 
Of Myron ! Speak, I say ! 

(Pauses for a moment, and then cries.) 
Ah ! wo is me ! 

ADHASTUS. 

She faints ! 



30 



THE SON OF 



[Act I. 



ELPENOR. 

Support her, or she falls ! 
theano (supporting the sinking Actcea.) 
Help! Help! 

polydore (aside.) 
She has her share ! Now comes the beauty's turn ! 
amyntas (coming up, with other men and women, on 
hearing Theano's cry.) 

Myron 

A prisoner, say you ? 

theano. 

Help me, friends, to hear 
This poor unfortunate into the house ! 

( Theano and the other women carry the half-insensible 
Actcea into the house.) 

AMYNTAS. 

And they that took him were Ligurians ? 

LYCON. 

Yes ; for three weeks have these wild, shaggy knaves, 
Forth broken from the mountains where they dwell, 
Been roving all about, as is their wont, 
Laying the country waste, attacking travellers, 
And driving the cattle from the pastures ; 
And these are they who captured Myron. 
parthenia (rushing out of the house, and towards the 
group assembled around Lycon. ) 



Act I. 



THE WILDERNESS. 



Where is the man that brought this news ? Is 't you 
Say ! is it true ? "Were you a witness of it ? 

LYCON. 

I stood within ten paces as they passed, 
The old man, and the fierce barbarians. 

PABTHENIA. 

And you escaped, and he- — 

LYCON. 

They saw me not 
I was alone, and did not dare to move ; 
I waited till the horde had all gone by, 
Then turned to flee, but the old man perceived me, 
And called in piteous accents after me : 
" I am the armourer, Myron, of Massalia ; 
Go thither, I adjure you by the gods, 
And tell my friends to come and rescue me ! " 
Thereat one of the savages cries out : 
" Yes ! go ! and let whoever undertakes 
To free him, bring a goodly weight of silver ; 
His ransom has been fixed at thirty ounces, 
For that 's his value !." So I hastened hither, 
And they kept on their course towards the Cevennes. 

PARTHENIA. 

A prisoner ! No ! it is no time for tears, 

But let my eyes be clear, my heart be steel ! 

You say they went towards the Cevennes, and ask 



82 the son op [Act I. 

A ransom ? True, our house and farm with debts 
Are loaded, but we have friends. 

polydore (aside.) 

Hard cash were better ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Adrastus ! you, and you, Amyntas ! help me ! 
You grew up with him, and with him you shared 
The sports of childhood and the cares of age ; 
Deliver him ! You can, for you are rich ; 
You will, for you are good. Speak, noble friends ! 
Say you '11 advance the money for his ransom ? 

ADRASTUS. 

I ? Thirty ounces ! Would to Heaven I had 
As much as that laid up to leave my children ! 

AMYNTAS. 

The ocean bears my all, and who can build 

On winds and waves ? Perhaps this very moment 

I am a pauper ! 

polydore (aside.) 
That 's the worth of friends ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Pity me ! that the gods may show you pity, 
That your good ship may safely reach her haven, 
That your dear children may ne'er feel the yoke 
Of slavery, or poverty's hard burthen I 
Ah ! let my prayers, my mother's sorrows move you ! 



Act I.] THE WILDERNESS. 33 

ADRASTUS. 

Desist! — Perhaps, hereafter — but at present 
'Tis all in vain, I can do nothing for you ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Merciful Grods ! 

AMYNTAS. 

Yes, yes, the times are hard ; 
And each one has enough with his own troubles, 

PARTHENIA. 

Oh friendship ! art thou then a fable ? 

a herald (behind the scenes.) 

Place ! 

The Timarch ! Citizens, make way ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Then go ! 

Why pray to such as you ? Our mother's watchful ! 
Massalia will protect her injured children ! 

herald {with a white wand, entering in the back- 
jf ; ground.) 

Place for the Timarch ! 
parthenia (falling at the feet of the Timarch, who 
follows the Herald, accompanied by several coun- 
sellors.) 

Rescue ! Help ! 
herald (waving his wand.) 

Back, girl ! 

2* 



34 



THE SON OF 



Act I. 



TIM ARCH. 

Let her remain ; and do thou, maiden, speak ! 
Why dost thou call for help ? 

PARTHENIA. 

Rescue my father ! 
Myron — the armourer — among the mountains — 
The wild Ligurians have dragged him off — 
Ah ! rescue him from cruel slavery ! 

TIM ARCH. 

I 'm sorry for the worthy man's misfortune ; 
But then to rescue him — 

PARTHENIA. 

Let the trumpets sound ! 
Let the good citizens gird on their swords ! 
He 's forged them every one, and trusty blades 
They are, and noble steel ! In her son's cause 
Call forth Massalia's might ; force these wild robbers 
To yield their prey ; and bring the prisoner back, 
Bring him in freedom back to his free home. 

TIMARCH. 

It may not be ; for an old law forbids it, 

Left to us from the time, when, but just founded, 

Massalia struggled with her barbarous neighbours, 

In desperate contest for her infant life ; 

7 Twas then decreed, lest anxious care for some 

Might jeopardize the safety of the whole, 

And prudence share the fate of reckless daring, 



Act L] the wilderness. 35 

Massalia should protect her citizens, 
Only so far as her walls ' shadow reached : 
And now since Myron 

PARTHENIA. 

Mercy ! Ah ! let mercy 

Plead ! 

{Springing up.) 
No ! Right ! not mercy. Give me my right ! 
Stands not Massalia now securely founded? 
Does not her powerful arm stretch far and wide 
Beyond the shadow of her walls ? Why crouch 
Behind old laws, if we have hearts and weapons ? 
He is a prisoner : do thou free him, Timarch ! 

TIMARCH. 

It may not be ! He who disturbs one stone 

In Law's high temple, prostrates the whole structure ; 

Do thou look to it, for I can do nothing ! 

(turns to leave her.) 
parthenia (falling at his feet.) 
Ah ! Have pity on me ! 

TIMARCH. 

Pity dwells 

In heaven ; but on earth, Justice should reign, 
And I must be her faithful minister. 
Make way ! 

HERALD. 

Place lor the Timarch ! Place I 



36 the son of [Act I. 

(The Timarch and his train disappear in the back- 
ground.) 
parthenia (calling after him.) 

Have pity ! 

Ah me ! no ear that listens to my wo ! 

(Still kneeling, covers her face with her hands.) 

polydore (rubbing his hands : aside.) 
" I can do nothing ! " I could hug you for it, 
You darling man, to say, " I can do nothing." 

ELPENOR. 

I '11 steal away ; her tears go to my heart ; 
And yet I cannot help her ! 

(He retires, in conversation with several of the bystand- 
ers, many of whom already have followed the Timarch.) 

ADRASTUS. 

Fisherman ! 

You lodge with me ! I will reward you well 

For having brought this news ; and you, friends, come ! 

Let us with care deliberate at leisure 

What may avail in these sad circumstances. 

(He retires with Amyntas, Lycon, and the rest of those 

present, leaving Parthenia, who is kneeling with her 

face hid, alone with Polydore.) 
polydore (who has seated himself cross-legged on the 

steps of the house opposite to that of Myron.) 
I 'm glad they 're gone ! Now I shall have my turn ! 
I '11 hit her so, that she '11 not soon forget it ! 



Act I.] the wilderness. 37 

partiienia (raising her head, and looking around.) 
Gone ? Are they all gone? — Do all shun me, then? 
Is no kind arm stretched out to lend me aid ? — 
I see misfortune treads a lonely path ! 

(Springing up.') 
And yet somewhere I must find help — I will ! 
I '11 go to Polydore ! 

POLYDORE. 

To Polydore ? 
Why ! Are you ill, to seek that bitter herb, 
His loathed presence ? 

parthenia (aside.) 

Help me now, ye gods ! 
And melt all pride to meekness in my soul ! 

(Aloud.) 

See me at your feet, kneeling in the dust 

POLYDORE. 

'T is even so ! at my feet ! in the dust ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Forget ! Forgive ! and set my father free ! 

I '11 be your slave ; I '11 bind myself to serve you ! 

POLYDORE. 

Indeed ! 

PARTHENIA. 

I '11 faithfully guard house and goods, 
Nurse your old age, and watch over your children ! 



38 the son of [Act I. 

POLYDORE. 

Are you in earnest ? Will you really do 
All that ? 

PARTHENIA. 

All that, and yet more ! Do you only 
Grant me one thing ; set my dear father free ! 

Polydore (rising.) 
Why, let me see : his ransom 's thirty ounces ; — 
No, no ! 'T were a bad bargain ! I 'm a man 
Who takes advice, and so I '11 follow yours ! 
I '11 get a pedagogue for my wild brats, 
And guard my house with trusty locks and bolts ; 
And when I 'm sick, I '11 buy herbs from the huckster 
At yonder corner ; that 's my better course ; 
But as for you, my pretty, scornful one, 
Why you can free your father as you may ! 
Go bind yourself as slave to the barbarians ; 
Do what you please, but this one thing grant me : 
Leave me, my Briar-Rose, out of the game ! 

(Aside.) 

Now I have hit her home, and she can think on 't. 

(Exit in the back-ground.) 
parthenia (who during Polydore's last speech, has 

risen and moved away from him.) 
Go and exult ! and fancy that despair 
Lays hold on me, and that thy mockery 
Is driving my desponding soul to madness ! 



Act I.] THE WILDERNESS. 39 

It is not so ! Men leave me to my sorrows, 
But the gods look on me and send me help ! 
Their inspiration swells within my "breast, 
All dangers vanish, and no object looks 
Beyond my reach ! A spirit breathes within me, 
A courage that shall lead to victory ! 
Thou fool, that thought 'st to sharpen my distress, 
The gods impelled thee to speak thus to me ! 
For thou hast showed me the dark path to rescue, 
And taught me how to break my father's chains ! 
Away ! away! Night's drawing on apace : 
Others may lay their weary limbs to rest ! 
Parthenia, up! thy morning- work begins ! — 
But my mother — 

theano (coming out of the house during Parthenid's 
last words.) 

Thank Heaven, 't is over now, 
For gentle, care -dispelling slumber broods 
Over her weary head. 

PARTHENIA. 

Long may it last ! 

THEANO. 

Come in, and help me to prepare for her 

A draught of heart-cheering potent nepenthe ! 

PARTHENIA. 

I go to seek an herb of greater virtue ! 



40 the son of [Act I. 

/ # 

THEANO. 

What ! now ? 'T is growing dark ! 

parthenia {laying her hand upon her heart.) 

Here all is bright ! 

THEANO. 

You will not go alone ? 

PARTHENIA. 

The gods are with me ! 

THEANO- 

To seek for herbs at night ! Why, 't is sheer madness ! 
Come back, I say ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Do you watch by her side ; 
I am called onward by a voice within ; 
If that which I beheld in my mind's eye 
Be no delusion, then is rescue nigh ! 
And all, I venture, hoping all, to win ! 

THEANO. 

Whither? — What mean you? — Stay ! — Parthenia ! 
(As she hurries after Parthenia, the curtain falls. } 



Act II] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



41 



ACT II. 

Among the Cevennes. A forest of thick over-arching 
foliage ; where the wood opens, a prospect over a wild 
rocky landscape. In the back-ground, on the left, 
a half-extinguished fire, over which a kettle is sus- 
pended; several Ligurians, clothed in the skins of 
wild beasts, are sleeping round about ; near them lie 
spears, helmets, shields, overturned goblets and 
flagons, in a disordered pile ; in the back-ground, 
on the right, some tents made of hides. 

In the fore- ground, on the right, Ambit ar, Novio, and 
Trinobant, reclining around a mass of rock, and 
throwing dice. To their left, in the centre of the 
stage, Ingomar, sleeping under a tree, against the 
trunk of which are leaning his spear and shield ; at 
a little distance from him, Myron, sitting on the 
ground. 

AMBIVAR. 

I've one point more, the stake is mine ! 

TRINOBANT. 

Curse on it ! 

I call that luck ! 



42 



THE SON OF 



[Act II. 



NOVIO. 

Now let me try my fortune ! 

AMBIT AB. 

What do you stake ? 

NOVIO. 

I've a black colt at home, 
But two years old, swift as the wind ! What say you? 

AMBIVAR. 

Done ! I stake ten fat sheep against your colt. 

{They throw.) 

MYRON. 

It seems to me as though 't were all a dream ! 
Like hungry wolves they Ve swallowed their rude meal, 
And, after quaffing draughts of mantling mead, 
Now these are rattling with their dice, while those, 
Their uncouth limbs crippled by drunkenness, 
Lie with their eyelids closed in leaden sleep. 
* And am I then the slave of these wild beasts ? 
But yesterday Massalia's citizen, 
A freeman, and to-day 

ingomar {speaking in his sleep, with restless agitation.) 
Follow ! Pursue them ! 

NOVIO. 

Mead, slave ! 

ambivar (throwing,) 
A lucky throw! The colt is mine ! 



Act II.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



43 



TRINOBANT. 

Ten points ! 

NOVIO. 

May lightning blast it ! 
myron (aside.) 

All I have 

Is not enough to ransom me from bondage ; 
And I am old, too ! Ah ! were I but young, 
I would take courage, and escape by flight ! 

Have I then no relief to hope for, none ? 

novio (threatening Myron with his clenched hand.) 
Mead ! mead ! I'll saw your deaf ears from your skull ! 
Bring me mead, slave ! 

myron. (hastily grasping a flagon and handing it to 
Novio.) 
Here, here is mead for you ! 

AMBIVAR. 

Now, Trinobant, what do you stake ? 

TRINOBANT. 

This bracelet ! 

AMBIVAR. 

My shoulder-belt against it ! 

TRINOBANT. 

Be it so. 

myron (moving away with the flagon.) 
Oh ! would that this were poison that I give j ou ! 



44 the son of [Act II. 

No rescue ! none ! But Polydore, Amyntas, 

Adrastus, and Elpenor, trusty friends — 

They '11 surely think of me ; they '11 pay my ransom ! 

Ye gods ! deceive not my fond expectation, 

But graciously restore me to my home, 

And let me die in the city of my fathers. 

ingomar (speaking in his sleep.) 
Pursue ! Strike dead ! 

(He wakes.) 
A dream ? Ah ! 't is a pity ! 
The strife was at an end, the day was ours ! 
How the base cowards fled ! What piles of "booty ! 
So many prisoners ! And 't was but a dream ! 
All vanished now ! — Where can Alastor stay ? 

TRINOBANT. 

Lost ! Well, for to-day I have enough. 

AMBIVAR. 

Once more ! 

TEINOBANT. 

Some other time. 

{He rises and approches Ingomar.) 

AMBIVAR. 

And you ? 

NOVIO. 

Again ! 



Act II.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



45 



AMBIVAR. 

I '11 venture the last booty that I won, 
My Allobrogian girl. 

NOVIO. 

And I, against her, 
This sword, of which I plundered yonder slave. 

myron {aside.) 
My sword ! They 're throwing dice for my good sword ! 
I little thought that 't would be sold so cheaply; 
Oh, that its steel were wet with their hearts' blood ! 
ingomar {who has in the meantime risen and approach- 
ed Samo.) 
Up, Samo ! up, I say ! 

trinobant (drawing near.) 

Such sleep 7 s like death ! 

{Shakimg Samo.) 

Ho ! Samo, up ! 

samo (rising drowsily.) 
Is 't time for supper ? 

INGOMAR. 

No! 

'Tis time for you to drive home from their pasture 
The cattle we the other day made prize of ; 
So rub your eyes ! Enough of sleep ! 
Hence, hence, I say ! 

ambivar {while Samo, Trinobant, and the other Ligu- 
rians who have gradually awaked, retire into the 
back-ground. ) 



46 the son op [Act II. 

Mine was the best throw ! 

NOVIO. 

No!. 

v 'T was mine ! 

AMBIVAR. 

Thou lyest ! 
novio (seizing him by the throat.) 

Dog ! do you play false ? 
ambivar (brandishing his battle-axe.) 
Dog ? — Dogs can bite ! 

Myron (aside.) 
To it ! Strike ! Strangle ! Eat each other up ! 

ingomar (advancing to the fore -ground.) 
What means this ? 

novio (struggling with Ambivar.) 
Murderous villain ! 
ingomar (separating them by force.) 

Hold! Desist! 

NOVIO. 

Who dares — 

INGOMAR. 

I do ! You chose me for your chief, 
So cease this quarrel, I command you both ! 

NOVIO. 

Away ! 

ambivar (brandishing his axe.) 
Either his blood or thine ! 



Act II.] THE WILDERNESS. 47 

ingomar {threatening,) 

Stand back ! 
One step more, and I send you to the shades ! 
{Novio yields, Ambivar lets his axe fall.) 

INGOMAR. 

Again I tell you, peace ! and do thou, Novio, 
Climb yonder cliff and look out for Alastor ; 
You, use your axe, and fell us wood for supper ! 
Hence, I say, hence ! 

ambivar {muttering to himself.) 

Well, well ! the time will come ! 
{Exeunt Novio and Ambivar at different sides.) 
ingomar {looking after them.) 
Defiance ! And to me ! Lightning of Heaven ! 
But, as you will ! I '11 keep you braggarts under ! 
Unless I meet a stronger one than you, 
The hour in which I yield is yet far off, 
And all-unconquered will I enter heaven ! 
What was I wishing for ? Eight ! Right ! Ho ! slave, 
That flagon here ! 

{After drinking, and giving the flagon back to Myron.) 

That was a quickening draught ! 

{Stretching himself on the rock, on which the others had 

been dicing.) 
Now talk to me, no matter about what, 
To make the time pass. 



48 the son of [Act II. 

MYRON. 

Talk to you? 

INGOMAR. 

First tell me, 

What may your name be ? 

MYRON. 

My name — Myron, master. 

ingomar. ^mocking hbn). 
" My name — Myron, master ! " Ha ! ha ! you chirp 
Like a young linnet in it's nest, and look 
As sour to boot as though you had been dining 
Upon wild plums ! Why, what 's the matter ? Tell me, 
Did you get beaten while I slept ? 

myron {terrified.') 

How? beaten? 

INGOMAR. 

They whipped you ? 

MYRON. 

No, master. 

INGOMAR. 

Then, by the gods ! 
What are you crying for ? Foolish old man ! 
Here you have meat and drink enough, you sleep 
At night upon soft moss, and when we 're once 
At home, a furnace shall be built for you; 
There you can work and hammer as of old, 
And live as you were wont !— 



Act IL] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



49 



MYRON. 

And do you count 
As nothing, that I lose my freedom ? 

INGOMAR. 

Freedom ! What ? 
It makes me laugh ! And do you miss your freedom ? 
Why, you were not free when we captured you, 
Old Age had you under his crippling yoke, 
And only Strength is free, only Youth strong! 

MYRON. 

And if 't is as you say, if my strength 's crippled ; 
Who among you will nurse me, care for me ? 

* INGOMAR. 

Nurse you ? Is there an herb that cures old age ? 

For that disease we have a better plan ; 

Among us, when a man is old and sickly, 

He goes into the woods, takes with him food 

For three days, lays him down upon the moss, 

Under a tree, consumes all his provision, 

And after three days spent he goes to Heaven ! 

MYRON. 

And you permit it ? You look on ? The son 
Suffers his father then 

INGOMAR. 

To die! Why not? 

Why linger on, while his last hours are flying, 
3 



50 the son of [Act ] 

A torment to himself, to us a burden ? 
Strength is the sum of life ; when strength decays, 
Our life is but a sword-hilt without blade, 
An empty quiver, and we cast it from us ! 

MYEON. 

Among the woods, after three days, — Atrocious ! 
I too, then, when my little strength is gone, 
I too must 

INGOMAR. 

No, not you, you are a slave ; 

Your fate depends upon the will of him 

Who gains you as his portion of the booty ; 

Yet it may happen that you fall, by lot, 

To the great gods, as their part of ftie plunder ; 

Then, where the hallowed stones rear their vast circle, 

The sacrificial axe must lay you low ! 

MYRON. 

The sacrificial axe ! Ah me ! I feel it 
Piercing my flesh ! Ah me ! 

INGOMAR. 

He acts as though 
The world were nothing, did he not live in it ! 

MYRON. 

Protect me, gentle deities of my home ! 
Massalia, wo is me, that e'er my foot 
Advanced beyond the threshold of thy gate ! 
Ah ! fool, that e'er 



Act II.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



51 



INGOMAR. 

No more of this ! Keep, coward ! 
Your baseness to yourself, and stun me not 

With your complaints 

myron (retiring.) 

I — pardon me — I 'm silent. 

ingomar (aside.) 
Among his nation there may, indeed, be men, 
But he is none ! Slave ! 

MYRON. 

Master ! 

INGOMAR. 

Be but prudent, 
And fear not, for the lot will not be yours, 
And if you will but forge stout swords for us, 
Do us good service, lead the life that we do, 
You '11 yet have happy days among us 

MYRON. 

Happy ? 

INGOMAR. 

Thou fool, thou art so much in love with life, 

That mourn'st thy freedom, and hast ne'er known either! 

The home of Freedom is in our free air, 

She dwells among our woods, upon our mountains 

She draws her vital breath ! And as for life, 

This which we lead, one moment home, then here, 

To-day no care, no sparing for to-morrow, 

The chase, the feast, the battle, and the danger, 



52 the son of , [Act 

This, this is life, no pleasure is like this, 
When the veins swell, the exulting bosom heaves ! 
But you, confined within your gloomy walls, 
Spend all your days in sorrow and repining. 

MYRON. 

Master, within their circuit I was born, 
There Justice dwells, and Law, and Social Order, 
There live my faithful wife, and my dear daughter, 
'Tis there I have — or did have, must I say? 
All upon earth on which my heart sets store ! 

INGOMAR. 

What ? Can it be ? Tears ? Hence ! Begone ! 
For women ? Tears ? Are you yourself a woman ? 
What are these women ? — Vain, luxurious things, 
Created to bear children, and be slaves ! 
That cast, as soon as ripe, their wanton glances, 
That crouch around the fire, and suckle infants, 
Look at themselves in brooks, and twine their hair ! 
Were I a god, and had the world to make, 
There should not be one in it! — 

Now away ! 

Begone out of my sight ! 

MYRON. 

You 're angry, master, 
Yet had you been but yesterday a freeman, 
And were you now, like me, far from your heme, 
A wretched slave 



Act II.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



53 



INGOMAR. 

A slave I 'd never be ! 
(A horn sounds in the distance.) 
Listen ! — I hear Alastor's horn ! 'T is they ! 
They 're coming ! 

(To Novio, who enters in the back-ground of the stage.) 
Speak ! Is 't they ? 

NOVIO. 

Yes, they 're approaching 

Along the glen ; Alastor, hurrying on 

Before the others, climbs with active limbs 

The steep ascent. He 's here already ! 

{Alastor rushes in at the bach-ground of the stage ; one 
by one enter Samo, Trinobant, Ambivar, and other Li- 
gurians, and advance in succession into the fore 
ground.) 

ALASTOR. 

Yes! 

Here am I ; but far better had it been 

That I had spared myself the thankless labour ! 

I come with empty hands ! 

INGOMAR. 

It cannot be ! 
The goodly cattle, that Avenio's townsmen 
Drive every year to pasture on the mountains 

ALASTOR. 

We did not meet with one. 



54 



THE SON OF 



[Act II. 



INGOMAR. 

And so you bring 

ALASTOR. 

Nothing ! — Ah, true ! One prize 
We made, a girl, a pretty thing enough. 

NOVIO. 

What ! a woman ! 

INGOMAR. 

Now that was worth your trouble ! 

AMBIVAR. 

How did you take her ? 

ALASTOR. 

Of her own accord 
She came to us. As we lay in the thicket, 
Steps rustle in the distance, voices sounded, 
And she passed quickly by, alike regardless 
Of the sun's heat, and of the stony path. 
We rushed out from our hiding-place ! The boy, 
Her guide, escapes ; but she, receding 
A step, and motioning back our outstretched arms, 
Cries, " Hold, Ligurians, 'tis you I seek I " 

TRINOBANT. 

A girl, did you say ? 

NOVIO. 

Well, and what next ? 

ALASTOR. 

We laughed; 



Act II. ] THE WILDERNESS. 55 

If you seek us, said we, you have us now, 
And you are our prisoner ! But the girl, 
Glowing with anger, tears herself away : 
" No ! " she cries, threatening, " No, I 'ni not your 
prisoner ! 

I 'm bringing ransom-money for your slave, 
And so I have safe -conduct ! " 

myron (aside.) 

Ransom-money 

For their slave ! 

INGOMAR. 

If she comes with ransom-money, 
She spoke the truth, and she can claim safe-conduct. 

ALASTOR. 

In a word, we were forthwith persuaded 

To lead her, by the shortest path, to Ingomar, 

Our chieftain ; so she followed us, 

Or rather, went before with rapid steps, 

While we, in sore perplexity, came after. 

TRINOBANT. 

Now, that 's a girl of spirit ! 

INGOMAR. 

Tell us then, 

For which one of our slaves does she bring ransom ? 

ALASTOR. 

She said, for Myron, of Massalia. 



56 



THE SON OF 



[Act II. 



INGOMAR. 

For him ! 

MYRON. 

The gods be thanked ! 

INGOMAR. 

Now, of a truth, 
Naught 's so bad as not to find a purchaser. 

MYRON. 

Free ! Ransomed ! Shall I once more see Massalia ? 

Ye gods, let not my senses fail with joy ! 

And you — oh speak ! Her hair is dark, her eye 

Sparkling and clear, slender her form, her voice 

As musical as nightingales' sweet notes, 

So sweet — oh speak — say, is it not my child ? 

ALASTOR. 

Look for yourself ! 

(Enter in the back-ground Parthenia, surrounded by 
Ligurians.) 

MYRON. 

Parthenia ! My child ! 
My darling child ! Is 't thou ? Ah yes ! Thine eye 
Again beams on me ! Now that I have thee, 
I have no more to wish for ! Ah ! I knew, 
If my Parthenia could ransom me, 
She 'd do it ! And she has ! 

PARTHENIA. 

My own dear father ! 



Act IT] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



57 



INGOMAR. 

Crying again ? Now, by the god of thunder ! 
This blubbering fellow 's like a cloud of rain. 

ALASTOR. 

Woman, enough of tears and whispering ! 
If you seek Ingomar, behold him ! Speak ! 

parthenia [kneeling before Ingomar.) 
Suffer a child to kneel before you, chieftain ! 
And pray for a dear father's liberty ! 
He is our all, but of what use to you, 
A man like him, so old and so infirm ? 
Ah ! graciously bestow a worthless prize ! — 

NOVIO. 

How ? Bestow ? 

AMBIVAR. 

What ? Is that your ransom-money ? 

ALASTOR. 

For nothing ! forsooth ! 

INGOMAR. 

Girl, your father is 

Our common slave ; if he were mine, I 'd give him, 

And gladly, to be rid of the old grumbler ; 

But as it is not so, you must not hope 

With cunning words to flatter or entrap us, 

For though you prayed 

parthenia (springing up quickly.) 

Enough ! Waste not your breath ! 
3* 



58 the son or [Act II. 

It is the will of Heaven ! So take his ransom ! 

INGOMAR. 

What do you offer us ? 

PARTHENIA. 

Myself! 

MYRON. 

Thou 'rt raving ! 

INGOMAR. , 

Yourself? 

PARTHENIA. 

A blooming for a withered life, 
Youth for old age, and growing strength for weakness ? 
I offer these ; say " Yes ! " and let him go ! 

MYRON. 

Thou shalt not !— No ! 

INGOMAR. 

Your father forges weapons, 
Can be of use to us ; but you, a woman 

PARTHENIA. 

You mean I would be but a burden to you ? 
You must not think so. I can spin and weave, 
And I will make you rich and costly robes, 
I know how to prepare right savoury dishes, 
Well versed am I in music, and I have 
Full many a pleasing legend to relate, 
And many a song to lull you into sleep ; 



Act IL 



THE WILDERNESS. 



59 



Besides, I 'm strong, healthy in mind and body, 
And ever gay and cheerful was my temper ! 

INGOMAR. 

Now that 's well said, for he was always whining ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Say, " Yes ! " You '11 not repent your bargain ! 

MYRON. 

No! 

She raves, do not regard her I 

INGOMAR. 

Silence there ! 
What think you, comrades? Speak ! 
(He and the other Ligurians draw together in the left of 
the fore-ground, so that Myron and Parthenia re- 
main alone upon the right.} 
myron (while Ingomar converses in a low voice with 
the Ligurians, to Parthenia.) 

Unhappy girl ! 
What dost thou? Is it thus thou hopest to free me? 
It shall not be, though my life pay the forfeit ! 
What ! Had not Polydore, had not the others 
Wisdom enough to give thee better counsel ? 

PARTHENIA. 

Counsel and succour were not with your friends ! 

MYRON. 

But the Timarch, Massalia, the members 
Of the great council ? 



(50 



THE SON OF 



[Act II. 



PARTHENIA. 

Deaf was every ear ; 
Lo then ! I come and break your bonds asunder ! 

MYRON. 

Oh that I had not lived to see this hour ! 

Better be in the dragon's den than here, 

Among these miscreants whom Nature formed 

To mock humanity, who let their parents 

Perish with hunger's agonizing pains, 

Who kill their slaves — ah ! shudder, my poor child ! — 

As offerings to their hellish deities ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Oh! 

They '11 not kill me ! 

ingomar (while Myron and Parlhenia continue to speak 
in a low tone.) 
We must send back the girl ! 
We have too many women home already ; 
The old man forges arms. 

TRINOBANT. 

But, before long, 
He '11 die, while she is young, and promises 
Many a year of life ! 

NOVIO. 

What ! Send away 
A pretty thing like that ? Free the old man ! 



ACT II.] THE WILDERNESS. ' 61 

INGOMAR. 

You 've lost your wits ! 

AMBIVAR. 

"What if we kept them both 9 

INGOMAR. 

No ! that 's a villain's counsel ! She relied 
Upon our faith, let her not find we have none ! 
parthenia {while the Ligurians continue to speak • 

among themselves in an under tone.) 
The die is cast, yield to the will of Fate ! 
My mother pines for you, go dry her tears ! 
My youth will lightly bear what bowed you down ! 
Where you had sunk, I will live bravely on ; 
Be free, and let me stay ! 

MYRON. 

Stay? Here, where death 
Awaits thee, ay, far worse than death, 
Shame, ruin, violence ! Ah, teach me rather, 
Ye gods, to use this last of my possessions, 
This dagger, that escaped the robbers' clutch! — 
parthenia (interrupting Myron, grasping his arm, 

and taking the dagger from him.) 
Give me the dagger! And now go in peace; 
For I will live worthy of you, or die ! 
But fear not lest things come to this; for if 
Massalia again refuse her aid, 



(3'2 the son of [Act II. 

The fishermen and shepherds will throng around you, 
You lead them on, you fall upon the robbers — 

MYRON. 

Speak low ! — collect my friends — attack the robbers ! 
Sure 't is some god that speaks thus through thy lips ! 

ingomar (to the Ligurians.) 
It is your will, and your decision rules me. 

(To Parthenia.) 
Hear me then, woman, your request is granted ; 
"We take you as a ransom in his stead ; 
He goes and you remain! 

PARTHENIA. 

Thanks, Heavenly Powers ! 

MYRON. 

She shall not stay! — 'T is I that am your slave, 
And I '11 remain so ! Let the free return 
In freedom home ! 

INGOMAR. 

"Who sought to know your pleasure? 
Our will is that you go, that she remain, 
And so begone! 

PARTHENIA. 

Away! You will come back, 
You will release me ! — Kindle not their rage ! 

INGOMAR. 

What ! Is lie lingering still ? Ho ! Comrades, up ! 
And make his stiff limbs supple ! 



Act II.] THE WILDERNESS. 63 

NOVIO. 

Quick ! Begone ! 
(Novio and Trinobant approach Myron.) 

MYRON. 

You will not tear my child out of my arms? 

trinobant (laying hold of him.) 
Come; stir, old man! 

PARTHENIA. 

Nay, Take not hold of him 
So roughly ! Of his own accord he 's going. 
Ah, hesitate no longer! 

MYRON. 

Be it so ! 

I go, but I '11 return ! 

AMBIVAR. 

What! Does he mutter? 

MYRON. 

To your destruction will I soon return ! 

ALASTOR. 

Threatening ! 

AMBIVAR. 

Ha! Strike him dead! 

INGOMAR. 

No! Whip him off! 
Let 's see the boaster run ! 

LIGURIANS. 

Away with him! 



64 



THE SON OF 



[Act H. 



OTHER LIGURIANS. 

Off! Off! 

myron {violently hurried away by a crowd of bar- 
barians.) 

Parthenia, my child, farewell! 

PARTHENIA. 

Farewell. He 's gone. — I '11 never see him more ! 
(She covers her face with her hands, and stands 
sobbing violently in the fore- ground of the stage.) 
ingomar {mounted on an elevation in the back- ground, 

and looking after Myron.) 
Ha ! How the fellow runs ! By all the gods ! 
Full well I know the braggart will not rest 
Until he hide his head in his wife's apron. 
"Well, this same fear must be a strange sensation! 
I know it not, and I could wish, by Heaven ! 
For once to be afraid, to learn what 't is ! 
Now, for our slave ! — What, is it so ! You 're weeping ? 
Is this the cheerful temper that you spoke of? 
Is 't thus you keep your word ? — 

parthenia (half to herself.) 

Ne'er see him more ! 

INGOMAR. 

I hope not ! — So we 've bartered bad for worse, 
And in exchange for an old, childish dotard, 
Have gained a foolish, timorous, weeping woman ! 
Enough of tears ! 



Act II.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



65 



PARTHENIA. 

Right, full enough of them ! 
Since they avail me not, since you insult them, 
I'll weep no more, by all the gods I will not, 
And it were only to give you the lie ! 

(Stamping with her foot.) 

I say, I will not ! No, I will weep no more ! 

(She dries her tears quickly, and goes into the back- 
ground of the stage, where, subsequently, appear 
from time to time, Ligurians, who during the next 
scene, come and go, busy themselves with the fire, 
bring wood, 4* c *) 

ingomar (looking after Parthenia.) 

Now that is well! — With our new slave, at least, 

Anger 's a cure for unavailing tears ; 

The girl has spirit she'll not bear with chiding ! 

" I '11 weep no more ! " Now that was nobly said ! 

And if she keep her word, as she has pledged it 

( To Parthenia, who in the mean-time has taken two fla- 
gons, and is in the act of going away with them, to 
the right of the fore- ground.^) 

Hold, maiden ! Whither go you ? — 

PARTHENIA. 

Whither should I, 
If not to yonder brook, to wash the flagons ? 

(Exit.) 



66 the son of [Act II. 

INGOMAR. 

The flagons ? — That may well be needful— Yes, 
G-o with your flagons — what ! already gone ! 
A wilful thing ! But that shows life and action ! 
She takes the bull right bravely by the horns ! 
I think that we shall gain by the exchange, 
But after all, I wish she could make swords ! — 
The sun is high yet. I might go and hunt — 
But no — I '11 look after the herds — Still better, 
I '11 lay me down and sleep a little while ; 
Then comes our supper, and the day is done, 
And let to-morrow bring what the gods send us ! 

{He goes towards the tree, against the trunk of which 
his arms are leaning. Parthenia returns with the fla- 
gons and a large bunch of wild flowers ; she sits down 
upon the rock on the right of the fore- ground, places 
the flagons near her, and begins to make garlands.) 

ingomar (stopping suddenly, and, without observing 
Parthenia, coming slowly back to the fore-ground.) 

" Take me as ransom ! " And throws back her head 

As though she offered us whole piles of gold ; 

And afterwards again : " I '11 weep no more ! " 

A daring thing ! And this it is I love ! 

I can bear with a charger when he prances ; 

I love the fretting of the mountain-stream, 

And ocean-waves that fling their foam to Hear 'n : 



Act II j THE WILDERNESS. 67 

For coward idleness is living death, 
And life breathes only where strength combats strength. 
She 's here again ! 
(He approaches Parthenia, and bends down towards 
her, leaning upon the rock.) 

What are you making there ? 

PARTHENIA. 

I 'm twining garlands ! 

INGOMAR. 

Garlands ! — It seems to me 
As though I 'd often seen her in my dreams ! 
Ah yes ! — my little Folko, my sweet brother, 
That died in childhood — yes, I 'm right — 't is he ! 
She has his eyes, and his dark clust 'ring hair, 
Her very accents sound familiar to me. 
So you call these things garlands ; wherefore then 
Do you entwine them ? 

PARTHENIA. 

Why, for these flagons. 

INGOMAR. 

What say you ? 

PARTHENIA. 

Have you not the fashion ? We, 

At home, love to see wreathing flow 'rs entwined 

Around our flagons and our festive goblets. 

INGOMAR. 

But we, my girl, care only to see mead 



68 the son of [Act II. 

Filling our goblets to the very brim ; 

So trouble not yourself with making garlands ; 

Of what use are the playthings ? 

PARTHENIA. 

Playthings ! Use ! 
Must all things, even garlands, have a use? 
Their use is to be fair! Their brightness glads 
The eye, their fragrance cheers the soul ! See there ! 

(Springing up and throwing the half-finished garland 
around one of the flagons, which she then displays 
to him.) 

Is not that pretty ? 

INGOMAR. 

Now, by heaven's light, 
The fancy pleases me ! Here, this dark green, 
And there, the brilliant flowers ! You must teach 
Our girls at home to make such garlands for us ! 

PARTHENIA. 

One learns it soon ! Your, wife will soon weave garlands 
As well as I ! 

INGOMAR. 

My wife ! I and a wife ! 

PARTHENIA. 

So you have never wooed ? 

ingomar {striking his sword.) 

This is my wife ; . 



Act II.] THE WILDERNESS. 69 

Or 't is my shield, my spear ! Let him who will, 
Throw away that which his good fortune won him, 
Bargain with parents for their daughter's hand, 
And give away slaves, cattle, or red gold, 
Then the next day repent the hasty purchase ; 
I dm more prudent and buy better goods ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Great gods ! 

INGOMAR. 

Why do you stare upon me so ? 

Why so surprised ? What is the matter ? 

PARTHENIA. 

What! 

You woo your brides with gold, with paltry gold ; 
You buy them, and, to make them slaves, you give 
Slaves like themselves ? Immortal gods ! Are women 
But merchandise ? 

INGOMAR. 

What mean you ? I suppose 
That women must be slaves in any case, 
And, for our part, we are not harsh with them, 

PARTHENIA. 

Indeed ! Ye are not harsh, ye gracious masters ? 
Oh, did my spirit animate your women 
A single day 



70 



THE SON OF 



[Act II, 



INGOMAR. 

Gently ! Why rail at us ? 
We have our customs, even as you have yours m K 
You then, it seems, choose of your own free-will, 
And do not reverence your parents' voice? 

PARTHENIA. 

We give it heed, but follow our own hearts; 
We do not fall to him that "bids the highest; 
The free-born daughters of Massalia 
Are only bound by feeling's gentle ties, 
As fragrant as the garland in my hands; 
Love only, leads us to a lover's arms ! 

INGOMAR. 

What! Only love? You wed for love? But tell me, 
How is it done? 

PARTHENIA. 

Wedding for love? 

INGOMAR. 

Yes; I 

Have many a faithful comrade in the battle, 
And my heart clings to many a noble friend, 
But love — to wed for love — What is it then? 
What is love ? 

PARTHENIA. 

What love is? My mother says, 
It is the sweetest of all earthly things, 



Act II.] the wilderness. 71 

The heaven of life ! I never felt it, never ! 

INGOMAR. 

Never! You're sure? 

PARTHENIA. 

I 'm sure I never felt it ! 
(Regarding with satisfaction the garland which she is 
twining.) 

Oh look ! How pretty ! — Here, if I but had them, 
Should be some bright-red blossoms ! 

INGOMAR. 

I see some yonder, 

Flaming amid the wood. 

PARTHENIA. 

What say you? There? 
Ah yes ! Just what I wished — that burning red ! 
Ah go, I pray you, pluck me some of them ! 
ingomar (makes a quick motion to go, but stops sud- 
denly.) 

I, wait on you? 

PARTHENIA. 

Be sure you bring the best, 

The freshest ones ! — 

ingomar (aside ) 

The master for the slave! 
And wherefore not ? The poor child is so weary ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Do you refuse?- — ■ 



72 



THE SON OF 



[Act II. 



INGOMAR. 

No, no ! You shall have flowers, 
As fresh and fragrant as the wood affords ! 

(Exit quickly to the left of the fore- ground.) 
parthenia [holding up the garland and contemplat- 
ing it.) 

I never was so fortunate! — 'T will be 

A charming garland! — Charming! And for whom? 

Here it can deck no statue's sacred brow, 

Here 'twill ne'er light my mother's eye with gladness ; 

I am alone, forsaken ! — No, away, 

I '11 weep no more ! I '11 call up all my pride, 

And, even though they gave me cause for sighs, 

No coward tear shall ever dim my eyes ! 

ingomar [appearing with some branches of blossoms, 

and slowly crossing the stage ; aside.) 
When e'er my little Folko asked for fruit, 
For flowers or for any other plaything, 
And cried : Ob, bring it to me ! I will have it ! 
Whether I would or not, I had to do it : 
And she, in many things, I find is like 
The boy ! ~There are the blossoms ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Thanks ! But look, 
They 're of no use, you 've broken off the stems 
Too close to the flowers — 



ACT II.] THE WILDERNESS. 

(She throws some of ths blossoms on the ground.) 

INGOMAR. 

I '11 go again — 

PARTI1ENIA. 

No, no ! — I think this branch will do — I thank you ! 

INGOMAR. 

For my reward tell me more of your home, 
Tell me now all your mother used to say ! 
I '11 sit here close to you — 

PARTHENIA. 

No, no 1 — Not here ! 
You 'd crush my garland, ruin all my flow 'rs ! 

ingomar (sitting down at her feet.) 
Well then, let me sit here, and now begin! 

parthenia. 
What shall I tell you? 

INGOMAR. 

Tell me how you love 
And woo, how Love springs up, how Love departs, 
Oh tell me what Love is, for, by the gods, 
The word is as an Ocean to my thoughts, 
And I would fain look down into its depths ! 

PARTHENIA. 

How Love springs up ? — Quickly, my mother said ; 

She told me — Give me yonder violet ! — 

That Love comes, like the flowers, over night ; 

4 



74 the son of [Act II. 

That Love 's a fire, that kindles to fierce light 
From a soft glance ; that dreams and fancies feed ; 
That Love's a star, to Heav 'n our steps to lead ; 
A green spot in a parch' d and barren land, 
A little grain of gold in Life's dull sand, 
And that the gods, when weary of this earth, 
They fled to yonder skies that gave them birth, 
And with them took all else that charm' d our sphere, 
Forgot celestial Love and left it here. 

ingomar (who has kept his eyes fixed upon Parthenia ; 
after a pause.) 

It is beyond me ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Beyond me too ! — My mother 
Thinks one can only feel it ! But she taught me 
A little song, that speaks in plainer words, 
To me at least ! How does it run ? Ah yes ! 

(She speaks slowly, as if recalling the song to mind.) 

Oh tell me what is Love ! — ■ 
Since all my question shun : 
My heart, I '11 ask of thee. 

" One feeling in two bosoms, 
Two hearts that beat like one ! " 



And say : whence eomethhe ? — 
And how doth he depart? — 



Act TL] the wilderness. 75 

" None may his coming see ! 
True Love ne'er quits the heart ! 
And when is — No — " 

INGOMAR. 

Go on ! 

PARTHENIA. 

I know no more ! 
ingomar passionately.) 

Try to recall it ! 

PARTHENIA. 

So I do, but cannot ! 
It will come hack to me at some odd moment, 
And then — Here I must have some roses ! — Ha, 
I see a cluster yonder ! I must go ; 
Do you meanwhile watch flow 'rs and garland for me ! 
(She springs up, throws her flowers and garland into 
Ingomar 1 s lap, and runs away, to the left of the 
fore- ground.} 
ingomar (after a pause, without altering his attitude, 
speaking to himself, in deep thought.) 
One feeliug in two bosoms, 
Two hearts that beat like one. 
(The curtain falls.) 



76 



THE SON OP 



[Act in. 



ACT III. 

Scene as in the preceding act ; Ingomar's spear and 
shield leaning against the tree, as before ; the fire 
under the kettle extinguished.) 

ingomar, (buried in thought, appears with Alastor on 

the left of the fore-ground.) 
alastor (concluding a speech which he has been 
making.) 

And 'tis for this the others now have sent me, 

From yon, our trusty chieftain, to demand 

The needful orders for our homeward journey. — 

ingomar (speaking to himself in a low voice.) 
I '11 tell her— No, I will not ! For, by heaven, 
'T would seem as if — No, I will say to her, 
That I am satisfied with her past service, 
That I !— 

ALASTOR. 

You do not listen to me ! — 

INGOMAR. 

Yon, 

Alastor ? True, you came and said to me — 

ALASTOR. 

I said, the stream was emptied of its fish. 



ACT III.] THE WILDERNESS. 

The frightened game driven from ev'ry wood, 
And only scanty pasture left the herds. 

INGOMAR. 

Yes, yes, 't was so ! 

ALASTOR. 

The time is drawing near, 
Appointed by our tribe, at home, for feud 
And hostile inroad, to avenge old wrongs, 
Upon the Allobrogians. 

INGOMAR. 

How ? — right, right ! — 
Our Allobrogian feud — 't was so appointed. — 

ALASTOR. 

And we are fearful not to be in time ! — 

INGOMAR. 

Not to be there in time — I ? — Ingomar ? 
Lightning and thunder sooner fail the storm, 
Than I the battle ! 

ALASTOR. 

That was our firm trust, 
And so speak out, when do we leave this place ? 

ingomar {speaking to himself in a low voice.) 
I, leave this spot ? — I return homewards ? — Home ?— 
To her home let me go, ne 'er more to mine ! — 
It seems as though my only home were here, 
As though it were my birth-place, and my eyes 



78 the son of [Act III. 

Had here first opened to the light of day, 

As though I ne 'er had been, till I came hither ! — 

{aloud.) 

Where are the others ? 

ALASTOR. 

Yonder in the moss, 
On the wood's margin, at their early meal. 

INGOMAR. 

Let them have mead, as long as our store lasts ; 
Tell them to drink! — 

ALASTOR. 

What, not break up the camp ? 

INGOMAR. 

Until to-morrow I must weigh the matter — 

ALASTOR. 

Until to-morrow 

INGOMAR. 

Till to -morrow ! Leave me ! 

ALASTOR. 

How changed you seem to me in speech and nature ! 
I hardly know you ! Well then, till to-morrow ! 
And may the bright beam of to-morrow's sun 
Bring wisdom and discernment back to you ! 

(Exit in the back- ground on the left.) 

INGOMAR. 

What, hardly know me ! Oh, that shaft tells home ! 
I hardly know myself ! Whence comes all this ? 



Act III.] THE WILDEKNESS. 79 

I am not well. Some sickness troubles me ; 
My spirit is wrapped up in feverish dreams, 
And my mind wanders blindly here and thither ! 

(He throws himself upon the rock in the right of the 

fore-ground; after a pause.) 
I once had with my arrow pierced a doe ; 
Close to my victim, as she dyed the moss 
With her heart's blood, that flowed from the deep 
wound, 

Her young one stood, not dreaming of its peril, 
Or the hard end that overtook its dam, 
For its young life had not yet passed its dawn. — 
As I approached, to throw the slaughtered deer 
Upon my shoulders, it came running up, 
And took its food out of my bloody hand, 
And calmly gazed on me with its mild eye. 
And ever must I think on that mild glance, 
Oft as I gaze into the girl's bright eyes, 
Now sparkling in defiance, now revealing 
In confidence the pure depths of her soul — 
Her child-like soul — 

(Springing up.) 

What ! Nought but she, — Again ? 
And yet again 1 — By all the gods — Can I — 
Can Ingomar then think on nothing better 
Than on a slave, than on a woman's eyes? — 



80 the son of [Act III. 

{Clang of goblets, and sounds of revelry behind the 
scenes.) 

Hark how they shout ! Their furious war-cry tells, 

Loud swelling 'mid the goblet's joyful clang, 

That coming yict 'ry gives the banquet zest ; 

Already, in the fight, their vengeance quenches 

Their father's shame in Allobrogian blood, 

And I — Away ! ye sickly fancies ! — Leave me ! 

A plunge in the wild battle cools hot temples, 

In a foe's veins a healing springs, 

And I will seek it and regain my strength ! 

For me the clash of arms, the fight, the triumph : 

Have I to do with women ? — 

She, indeed, 
Seems of another nature from the rest, 
And when I think of ours at home, wrapped up 
In shaggy skins, sun -burnt and coarse, their bodies 

'erloaded with their tasteless finery, 
Rejoicing in their bondage, basely wooing 
Their master's favour with lascivious arts, 

1 can but loathe them — but this Grecian maid — 

{Revelry and shouting behind the scenes.) 
Again your battle-cry ! In vain, no echo 
Answers you in the beatings of my heart ! — 
Ah ! I am sick ! Whatever be my ill, 
In my soul's soul I feel the raging sickness still! 



ACT III.] THE WILDERNESS. 81 

{He throws himself again upon the rocJc, while Par- 
thenia enters on the right of the fore-ground, with a 
basket on her arm, and walks slowly towards the 
left, without observing Ingomar.) 

PARTHENIA. 

They 're sitting now at home, and mourning for me, 

And thinking me tormented, ill-used, dead ; 

But how much better has it all turned out, 

Than they suppose, than I myself had hoped ! 

'T is thus man dreams, and only Heaven is watchful. 

I 'm well enough content with these barbarians ; 

True, they are wild and rough, and yet untamed, 

But Ingomar can keep them all in check, 

And though he does himself oft look at me 

As if he thought at least to take my life, 

Yet I am sure I 've nought to dread from him ; 

I fear him not, he listens to sound reason, 

He is the best by far of the whole band ! 

(Approaching the rock and perceiving Ingomar.) 
"Why here he is ! 

INGOMAR. 

You here ! Whence come you, girl? 

PARTHENIA. 

From picking strawberries in yonder thicket. 
See my full basket ! Will you 

INGOMAR. 

No, no ! 

4* 



82 



THE SON OF 



[Act III. 



PARTHENIA. 

No !— 

It is as easy to say " Thanks " as No ! 

" Thanks," do you hear? Why do you stare thus at me ? 

You are not, sure, 

INGOMAR. 

TVhat should I be ? Away ! 

G-o, I would be alone ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Be 't as you will ! 

(She leaves him.) 
ingomar (springing up.) 
Ah, leave me not, Parthenia, leave me not ! — 
There 's madness in my brain, my blood is boiling. 

parthenia (returning quickly.) 
You are not sick ? Tell me, where lies your pain ? 
I 've stolen many a secret from my mother, 
And I can make draughts of health-giving herbs, 
And drive off giddiness with potent charms ! 
What ails you ? Tell me. 

INGOMAR. 

Nothing ! Now 't is past ! 
It is as if your breath had cooled the fire, 
That burning fever kindled in my heart, 
As if your gentle voice had sung to sleep 
A moaning child ! But, ere you came, my thoughts 
Were driving in a whirlwind of mad dreams ! — 



Act III] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



83 



PARTHENIA. 

But they Lave left you now ? 

ING03IAR. 

From the wild banquet, 
Far from my comrades a strong impulse drives me, 
Their battle-cry grates harshly on my ear ; 
My heart pants for repose, and dreams, and dreams, 
And blushes at its dream, and dreams it over — 
Parthenia, I would thou wert a man ! 

PARTHENIA. 

A man ! 

INGOMAR. 

Oh then all would be well ! You 'd be 
My fellow in the chase, in war my brother, 
Like your own shadow would I follow you, 
Watch when you slept, and carry you when weary ! 
Ev'n as the rock echoes the pealing horn, 
As the clear brook reflects the azure flower 
That blooms upon its bank, so would my soul 
Be but the image of your ev'ry feeling ! 
Your smile would be as mine, mine all your pain ; 
Our separate lives be woven into one ; 
The secrets of our souls, our inmost being, 
The heart's pulsations, and the springs of thought — 

{Slopping suddenly.) 

Oh Heavenly Powers 



34 



THE SON OF 



[Act III 



PARTHENIA. 

What ails you ? Speak ! 

What moves you thus ! 

ingomar (s-pcakwg slowly to himself.) 
" One feeling in two bosoms, 
Two hearts that beat like one." 

PARTHENIA. 

That is the song I said my mother taught me. 

ingomar {half to himself) 
That is the song, that lulled away my senses, 
That was the flash, that rent the cloud asunder! 

PARTHENIA. 

You 're dreaming still methinks ! 

INGOMAR. 

Did you not say, 
Love was a fire, that a soft glance enkindles, 
And that dreams feed! — They feed it even now, 
And the fierce flame is mounting to the skies ! 

PARTHENIA. 

What? Love ! 

INGOMAR. 

Did not your mother say that Love, 
Love was a star to guide our steps to Heaven ? 
Oh come then, come ! It sheds its glowing beams. 
And clear and brilliant lies the path before us ! 

PARTHENIA. 

His eyes are sparkling, his cheek burns with passion ! 
Immortal gods. 



Act III.] THE WILDERNESS. 85 

INGOMAR. 

Call not the gods from where 
They dwell above the clouds ! Though they took with 
them 

All else that lent enchantment to the earth, 
Yet, as you told me, they left Love behind ; 
Oh let us love then, and be blest like them ! 
Parthenia, be mine ! 

PARTIIENIA. 

Away, thou 'rt raving ! 

INGOMAR. 

By all the feverish dreams that haunt my sleep, 
By all the flames that prey upon my heart, 
The goblet mantles, and it shall be quaffed ! — 
Mine art thou, mine ! 

parthenia (retreating in terror.) 

Where shall I hide me ? Back ! 

INGOMAR. 

Thou 'rt mine ! 

parthenia (pointing her dagger at her breast.) 
Desist ! Or see me die ! 

INGOMAR. 

Hold! Hold! 

Ah, drop that cruel steel ! 
(Regarding her half in amazement, half in anger.) 

What ails me then? 
What keeps me back ?-— I am ber master ! — Is 



86 the son of [Act III. 

She not my slave ? — 

Those angry orbs of hers dart lightnings through me; 
What fear is I know not, but only fear, 
Methinks, could make me thus cast down my eyes ! 

PARTHENIA. 

How wretched is my lot ! 

INGOMAR. 

Thou, wretched? What! 
I did not frighten thee ? I was too hasty ! 
But hasty is my temper, rough my nature, 
And Love 

PARTHENIA. 

Love ! Think you that was Love ? Ah no ! 
I ne'er loved any one except my parents, 
But if I ever thought to leave my home, 
As others do, to follow one I loved, 
I thought 't were only when some constant heart, 
With gentle, timid, patient tenderness, 
Should half compel, half yield itself my captive, 
Respect in me its innate dignity, 
Nothing exact, take all as a free offering ; 
He should protect me, lead me, carry me — 
But what avails it to waste words on you ! 

(She leaves him.) 
ingomar {throwing himself in her way.) 
Stay, I command you ! Do you deem me then 



ACT III.] THE WILDERNESS. 

Unworthy of your words ! Learn what I am ! 
I am a mighty chief, my glorious deeds 
Resound in song through all my native hills ; 
I am your master, and your master's favour 
Should honour you, methinks, and so reflect 
On my rank, and on yours ! 

PARTHENIA. 

On my rank ! True, 
I'm but Parthenia, I am Myron's child, 
The humble armourer's child, yet I'm a Greek, 
Massalia's free daughter ! I was reared 
Mid the glad rites of bounteous deities, 
Nurtured upon the breast of gentle manners, 
And cradled in the arm of grace and beauty ! 
But you are the rough wilclerness's son, 
You grew up with the wild beasts of the wood, 
And though you are the first among your people, 
To us you 're but a robber, a barbarian, 
A cattle-stealer, and, at home, we punish 
Robbers and thieves with rods and with the cross 

INGOMAE. 

Audacious — 

PARTHENIA. 

Now, that I have spoken out, 
I breathe more freely, and do you reflect 
On your rank and on mine ! 



88 



THE SON OF 



[Act III. 



INGOMAR. 

"What, do you venture — Scorn 
And mockery — To me ? — Now then, by all the gods ! 
Learn, slave, how 't is that slaves are taught their duty ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Perhaps you tame them down with thirst and hunger, 
Or is 't with blows you teach them how to love ? 
But slaves can never love; they only fear, 
And hate, even as I hate thee, and know 
That force will ne'er extort aught else from me 
Than one thing, bitt 'rer yet than hate, 

INGOMAR. 

Be silent ! 

Or dread my wrath ! Speak not that word 

PARTHENIA. 

Contempt ! 

INGOMAR. 

For that thy life shall make atonement ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Take it ! 

ingomar (rushing upon Parthenia with his drawn 

sword, and suddenly stopping.} 
No, no ! my own life sooner ! 

(The sword drops from his hand.) 

Wo is me ! 

I would and cannot ! Fury burns within me ; 
Oh, I could tear myself to pieces now ! 



Act III.] THE WILDERNESS. 89 

I am no more myself — My strength is gone ! 

{Throws himself vpon the ground, in the most violent 
agitation.) 

parthenia [after a pause.') 
What does this mean? Here at my feet the sword, 
That flashed but now in menace o'er my head ! 
He, stretched upon the ground ; his senses wand'ring — 
What means this ? "Was I then too hard with him? 
Ah, whither did my anger hurry me ? 
'T was but his ignorance — 

Do I see right ? 
You 're weeping — Ingomar, why do you weep ? 

ingomar [springing up.) 
Women may weep, not I ! Think you I weep ? 
I am but sick ! 'T is nothing more. — Contempt ! 
To me my nation's pride, the foeman's terror — 

(After a pause, and looking at her angrily for a 

moment or two.) 
Go ! I can bear your absence ! Did you think 
I could not ? Idle fancy ! Go, you 're free ! 
Free as myself ! 'T is I give you your freedom ! 
Go to your home ! Away, and linger not ! 
Your breath is fraught to me with sickly dreams, 
Your very glance is poison ! Hence ! Away ! 

{He rushes off the stage, in the fore-ground.) 



90 



THE SON OP 



[Act HI. 



PARTHENIA. 

He leaves me, and in anger ! — Be it so ; 
It was but just to mortify his pride, 
When the barbarian sought to humble mine ! 
And so my breath gives him these fev 'rish dreams, 
And I must hence, and linger not ! Well then, 
He shall not say so twice — I 'm free once more ; 
Oh winged footsteps, bear me to my home ! 
My mother beckons me, I see my father 
Op'ning his arms — 

(pausing.) 
And shall I then part thus 
From him who made the yoke of slavery 
So light to me, who gave me back my freedom ? 
For though 't was in his anger, still he gave it ! 
No ! By this light of Heav 'n ! — I '11 wait for him, 
He must come back this way. And then — I '11 trust 
To the occasion to inspire my tongue 
"With what I ought to say. His wrath will vanish, 
I, hie me homewards with a lighter heart ! — 
(As she seats herself upon the rock, on which she has 
before placed her basket, Ambivar, Samo, and Tri- 
nobant, who have appeared in the back-ground on the 
right, during Parthenid' 's last speech, advance by de- 
grees to the front of the stage.) 

SAMO. 

He said he 'd think upon it till to-morrow. 



Act. in.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



91 



AMBIVAR. 

He '11 say the same tiling then ! The end will be 
We '11 never quit this place ! 

TRINOBANT. 

Thunder and lightning ! 

To lie here idle ! 

AMBIVAR. 

And meanwhile our comrades 
Are pressing towards the Allobrogian land, 
And they '11 secure the best part of the booty ! 

SAMO. 

We will not suffer it ! 

TRINOBANT. 

Come ! Come to Ingomar ! 

This day we must begone ! 

AMBIVAR. 

He '11 hardly think so ; 
He 's playing with his Greek girl, in the moss, 
List'ning to songs, letting her tell him stories 

TRINOBANT. 

Ay ! it is all her fault, the artful Greek, 
'T is she that keeps him here ! 

SAMO. 

Yes ! she 's bewitched him ! 
{They continue to speak together in a low tone.) 

PARTHENIA. 

Not yet come back ! He told me he was sick ; 



92 the son of [Act III. 

He told me so, and without doubt lie is ! 
His face was now all fire, now deadly pale, 
So pale — And can he then — By all the gods, 
My heart beats quick — In yonder thicket's shadow, 
I '11 follow unobserved upon his footsteps ! 
(<S7*e hurries across the stage, and disappears to the 
left of the fore- ground.^) 

AMBIVAR. 

Believe me, what I tell you is the truth, 
And Ingomar will ne'er break up the camp, 
Until that Greek is gone ! 

TRINOBANT. 

But she is his ! 

AMBIVAR. 

Not she ! The booty is not yet divided, 
And she 's ours yet, as much as his. 

SAMO. 

Right ! She is ours ! 

TRINOBANT. 

What 's to be done with her ? 

AMBIVAR. 

There is a vessel anchored on the coast, 

I know the men for Carthaginian merchants ; 

To them we '11 carry her ! They '11 give us swords, 

Rich bracelets, armour, in exchange for her. 

SAMO. 

So be it ! 



Act III.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



93 



AMBIVAR. 

Come, then ! 

TRINOBANT. 

But when Ingomar 

Hears of it 

AMBIVAR. 

Let him hear of it when 't is done ! 

(Aside.) 

He called me villain, and I '11 earn the title, 
Nor is even thus the debt I owe him cancelled ! 

SAMO. 

I see her coming ! — 

AMBIVAR. 

Silence ! Stand aside ! 
( They withdraw into the back-ground of the stage on the 
right, as Parthenia advances out of the thicket, on 
the left of the fore- ground.) 

PARTHENIA. 

He 's lying stretched upon the moss, and hides 
His face between his hands, and his hands tremble, 
And his breast heaves with deep and long-drawn sighs ! 
Can this be sickness, or — 

Ye gods ! I fear 

The subtle plague is taking hold on me ! 

ambivar (who, in the meantime, has, with his com- 
panions, crept, unobserved, nearer to Parthenia, who 
stands buried in thought.) 



94 the son of [Act III. 

Now is your time, my comrades ! 
(The Ligurians seize her by the arms and hold her 
fast) 

PARTHENIA. 

Back ! Release me ! 

What would you have ? 

SAMO. 

Hush, hush, my pretty bird ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Begone, I say — 

TRINOBANT. 

Be quiet, girl, or — 

PARTHENIA. 

No, 

You shall not ! • 

AMBIVAR. 

Off with her into the thicket ! 

parthenia (as she is being dragged away into the 
thicket by the Ligurians to the right of the fore- 
ground of the stage.) 

Oh, rescue me, ye great, avenging gods ! 

Help ! — Rescue 

(Not until of the stage,) 
Ingomar ! 

ingomar (advancing quickly on the left of the fore- 
ground. ) 



Act III.] THE WILDERNESS. 95 

Who called me ? Was 

It not her voice ? 

(Looking behind the scenes.) 

Ha ! — Ambivar ! — A sword ! 

A sword ! 

{He snatches up from the ground the sword, which he 
before let fall.) 
Behold one here, and blood shall dye it ! — 
(Exit hastily to the right of the fore-ground ; after a 
short pause, Parthenia rushes out of the thicket.) 

PARTHENIA. 

Ah, wo is me ! Ah, horror, 

ingomar (following her closely, with the sword still in 
his hand.) 

Stay, Parthenia ! 
Why do you fly? 'T is I ! How pale yon are ! 
Your strength is failing ! Let my arm support you ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Away ! Your hand is bloody ! 

INGOMAR. 

He is dead, 

And let the rest take warning from Ins fate ! 

You hang your head ! — What, did their rude, hands grasp 

My tender flower so roughly ! — How you tremble ! — 

They did not hurt you — Ha ! if it be so, 

They shall all make atonement ! One by one, 

Here in the dust I '11 drag them to your feet 



9G 



THE SON OP 



[Act III. 



PARTHENIA. 

Hark ! Steps ! The clang of arms ! — 

INGOMAR. 

While 1 am with you, 
There is no power on earth to do you harm ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Ah, wo is me ! They come ! There ! — 

INGOMAR. 

Let them come ! 

My soul is borne aloft on eagle's pinions, 

A more than mortal spirit swells my veins, 

And till a flash from Heaven lay me low, 

To all that men can do I bid defiance ! 

{During Ingomars last uwds, Alastor, Trinobant, Set- 
mo, Novio, and other Ligurians, armed with spears, 
swords and clubs, make their appearance by degrees, 
in threatening attitude, on the right of the fore- 
ground.) 

ingomar [advancing upon them.) 
What means this? Speak! What is it brings you 
hither ? 

alastoe. [after a pause.) 
Blood has been shed, and it cries out for vengeance ; 
Your sword has pierced the heart of Ambivar — 

INGOMAR. 

It was because he laid his grasping hand 
On this girl here, my slave ! 



Act III.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



97 



ALASTOR. 

She is not yours ; 
Until a just division, all our booty 
Is common property 

SAMO. 

Grive the woman up ! 

NOVIO. 

Lay hold of her 

INGOMAR. 

Come on then, all ! 
parthenia (throwing herself into the arms of Ingomar.) 

Ah, hold! 

They are too many ! Hold ! They '11 murder you — 

INGOMAR. 

Woman, away, where men contend ! Come on ! 

alastor (throwing himself between Ingomar and the 

Ligurians.) 
Hold, say I too, and do you comrades, listen ! 
We chose you as our chieftain, Ingomar, 
Assigning you a fifth part of the booty, 
That one among us might arrange disputes, 
Decide our quarrels, and protect our rights ; 
But you give yourself up to slothful ease, 
Unjustly take this slave unto yourself, 
And strike your comrade dead in hasty passion ! 
Thus have you, shield and pillar c f our rights, 



98 the son op [Act III. 

Done double violence to right and peace, 
And ill repaid our hon'ring confidence 

INGOMAR. 

I violated neither ! Ambivar, 

By his foul deed, robbed you as well as me, 

And without that had richly earned his fate ! 

As for the place I hold, know that it irks me 

Longer to keep such a presuming race 

As you in check ; so choose the paths you '11 follow 

Henceforth yourselves ; I am no.more your leader ! — 

The girl is mine ; the fifth part of the booty, 

Assigned to me in payment of my toils, 

Take as atonement for your comrade's death, 

And as her ransom ! Speak, if you consent ! 

If you refuse, then let the sword decide ! 

TRINOBANT. 

The fifth part of the booty — — 

NOVIO. 

Does he mean it T 

ALASTOR. 

Ten oxen, at the least, fall to his share, 
And twice as many sheep 

SAMO. 

A bargain, say I ! 

ALASTOR. 

(After a short pause, during which he and the others 
whisper together.) 



Act III.] THE WILDERNESS. 99 

I think we are agreed ! So, Ingomar, 

You claim as yours no portion of the booty? 

INGOMAR. 

None ! As I told you ! 

ALASTOR. 

Then the slave is yours, 
And if you now will guide our footsteps homewards, 
We promise to obey you as before. 

INGOMAR. 

My mind 's made up ! I am no more your chieftain ! 
I will to our neighbours, the Helvetians, 
Among the Alps, for I would see new lands, 
And other customs ! Leave me when you will ! 
I go not with you • 

ALASTOR. 

Think of our inroad 
Among the Allobrogians 

INGOMAR. 

I 've thought of it ; 

We part ! 

ALASTOR. 

So be it then ! Ho, comrades ! Strike 
The tents, and let us make at once for home ! 

INGOMAR. 

( While Alastor and the other Ligurians slowly with- 
draw, to Parthenia.) 



100 the son of [Act III. 

Now, maiden, fear no more ! They '11 soon be gone, 
And were 't not for your trembling, your pale looks, 
They had not, trust me, come so cheaply off! 
And now let terror vanish from your face ; 
Sit here and rest ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Oh, Ingomar, I thank you ! 

INGOMAR. 

Thanks ! And for what ? 

PARTHENIA. 

I know you only followed 
The dictates of your heart ; but that your heart 
Grave you such dictates, that I, scorned at home, 
Found a protector in the wilderness, 
For this, oh let me thank the. gods in you ! 
Think of me then, as I shall think of you, 
And so, farewell ! 

INGOMAR. ' 

Farewell — What say you ? How ? 
You will not follow me to the Helvetians? 

PARTHENIA. 

You gave me back my freedom, let me then 
G-o to my home 

INGOMAR. 

I — Give you back your freedom 

I — Do you dream ? 



Act III.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



101 



PARTHENIA. 

Do you take back your word ? 

INGOMAR. 

My word — in truth, it seems to me as if — 
My word — it must hold good, you 're free ! 

PARTHENIA. 

I thank you ! 

INGOMAR. 

No, no, Parthenia, 'tis as if 'twould ne'er 

Be day again on earth, as if the sun's 

Bright beam were quenched in everlasting night ! — 

I cannot bear to think that you should leave me ! — 

PARTHENIA. 

My parents pine to see their daughter — 

INGOMAR. 

Yes, 

'Tis so, you're free — 

But no ! — Ah think, Parthenia, 
Of the dark woods, the dark cliff's dizzy height, 
The torrents raging through the savage glens, 
And bears and wolves lurking in every cavern, 
And you — think you alone 

PARTHENIA. . 

I came alone, 

Alone I can return! 

INGOMAR. 

You shall not! — No, 



102 the son of [Act ill. 

Novio and Alastor shall go with you! 
Ho there ! This way ! 

PARTHENIA. 

No ! Rather bear and wolf, 
Than those wild ruffians ! 

INGOMAR. 

What, you think — In truth, 
'T were to confide the lamb to the wolfs care! 
Well then— 

(Quickly and with energy.) 
I will myself go with you ! 

PARTHENIA. 

You? 

INGOMAR. 

Why do you gaze on me so searchingly? 

You think I were scarce better than the others? 

Parthenia, I am not what I was ! 

I ne'er felt fear, scarce shed a tear in childhood. 

But you, to-day, have taught me to do both; 

Dread me no more ! Believe, confide in me ; 

I call on all the gods to bear me witness 

PARTHENIA. 

Ah, do not swear ! To me your eye speaks language 
Far truer, holier, than oaths can utter ; 
If that be falsehood, then is nothing true ! — 
Yes, you shall be my guide, I '11 follow you ! 



Act III.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



103 



INGOMAR. 

Do you consent? Oh come then, let me lead you! 

I '11 seek you out the forest's shadiest path, 

The meadow's softest turf; bid you take heed 

Of every stone, of every thorny bush ; 

Support you with my arm up the steep hills ; — 

No, no ! — I '11 not support, I '11 carry you ! 

{Throwing his arms around her.) 
parthenia [drawing back.} 
Am I a child, that you should carry me? 
I, that am used to roam, to mount, to climb? 
You'll see how well I can keep up with you! 
Nor do I need your arm, only your hand, 
To show me now and then a better path. 

INGOMAR. 

You mean 

parthenia. 

I mean, that you go on before — 
Guides always take their station in the van — 
I follow you ! — 

INGOMAR. 

Be sure you follow me! 

PARTHENIA. 

Should danger threaten us 

INGOMAR. 

I '11 ward it from you ! 



104 



THE SON OP 



[Act 111. 



PARTHENIA. 

And when, at times, we come to level places, 
"We '11 wander side by side and talk together ; 
But, that you go not hence with empty hands, 
Take yonder basket with the strawberries! 

INGOMAR. 

The basket — 

PAKTHENIA. 

Yes, the basket — Will you not? 

INGOMAR. 

Yes, yes ! Why should I not ? 

(He takes the basket.) 

PAKTHENIA. 

And, in return, 
Look, I will carry spear and shield for you! 

INGOMAR. 

So great a burden — 

parthenia (who has, in the meantime, taken the spear 
that was leaning against the tree, and placed the 
shield on her arm?) 

Let me have my way! 
I always had a loving for bright arms ; 
It 's in my blood, comes to me from my father ! 
And now, why do we linger? you've the basket — 
Let us begone! — D'you hear? — How still you are, 
How grave 



Act III.] THE WILDERNESS. 105 

INGOMAR. 

Is it not all a dream? — Come, then. 
Our shortest path is by the river's side! 

PARTHENIA. 

Lead on, I follow you, my trusty guide! 

(Exit Ingomar, carrying the basket, to the right of the 
fore-ground ; Parthenia, the shield on her arm, the 
spear in her right hand, follows him ; the curtain 
falls.) 



106 



THE SON OF 



[Act IV. 



ACT IV. 

(A woody landscape; in the hack-ground, a distant 
view ofMassalia and the sea; on the left of the fore- 
ground, a rocky height, thickly overgrown with 
bushes, from which a narrow path leads down towards 
the middle of the stage.) 

{Myron, Adrastus and Elpenor advance on the right of 
the back ground.) 

MYRON. 

Shame, say I, shame ! The wolf stands by the wolf ; 
In ev'ry coppice one branch helps the other, 
Strives to hold fast the hand that plucks a rose ; 
But yonder viper's nest, that boasts of justice 
And gentle manners, our Massalia sees 
Her citizens become the prey of slavery, 
And raises not a finger ; all unheard, 
Her children's cry for succor dies away ! — 
Shame, say I, shame — 

ADRASTUS. 

You know full well, it is 
An ancient law ; the state protects her children, 
Only so far as her walls' shadow reaches, 
And, as they captured you among the mountains — ■ 



ACT IV.] THE WILDERNESS. 107 

MYRON. 

And so, forsooth, the state protects her children, 
Only so far as her walls' shadow reaches ! 
In other words : Stay home, and you are safe ; 
If not, protect yourself ! Oh wise enactment, 
Oh fatherly protection ! — 

ELPENOR. 

Ancestral law, 
And prudent aiming at the common good ! 

MYRON. 

Ancestral law ! Are you your ancestors ? 

The common good ! Is mine, is Myron's good 

No portion of the common good ? Shame, shame, 

I say, shame to you all ! First you deny 

A father's ransom to a child, and now 

That in obedience to her heart's pure dictates, 

That reach beyond the shadow of your walls, 

She 's bowed for me her own head to the yoke, 

I cannot find a handful of stout hearts 

To help me to regain my only child ; 

And you are Greeks, and boast of your refinement ! 

Oh heartless race ! 

ELPENOR. 

You rail against Massalia 
Perhaps with justice; but you do us wrong; 
We felt for your misfortune. 

ADRASTUS. 

Ay! And if 



108 the son oi [Act IV. 

We at first listened coldly to your child, 
When she implored our help to set you free, 
'T was that, ere we could advise or comfort, 
She found the path to rescue 

MYRON. 

Yes, she is 
In love a woman, and a man in courage, 
But as for you — give me your hands, I know 
You mean well by me, you have honest hearts ; 
But the rest yonder, but that Polydore — 
I feel my gall rise, when I think of him — 
They all abandon my poor hapless child, 
And treat with mockery a father's prayers ! 

ELPENOR. 

We '11 help you ! We '11 rouse up the fishermen 
Along the coast ; true, they 're but barb'rous Salians, 
The natives of the land, but friendly to us, 
Nurtured in hate to the Ligurians ! 

ADRASTUS. 

Old Khesus has already promised us, 
And we must now strive to win Arbogast ! 

MYRON. 

Yes, come, it is for that we 're here. We must 
Gro to the fishermen and gain them over ! 
'T is hard too that Massalia's son, a Greek, 
Should thus be forced to spur barbarians 



Act IV.] the wilderness. 109 

Against their fellows ! And yet, come ! Oh were not 
My strength consumed by age, I 'd be myself 
Enough a man, alone to set her free ! 
But come to Arbogast — 

ELPENOR. 

I'll knock meanwhile 
At Actor's cabin yonder 'mid the alders; 
I know he '11 stand by us with heart and hand ! 

MYRON. 

'T is well! Go look for him, and bring us word; 
We '11 meet again at yon oak's mossy foot; 
And now, away ! She hesitated less, 
When with stout heart she sought the wilderness ! 
Hence, hence, I say ! 

(Exeunt Elpenor to the left of the back-ground, My- 
ron and Adrastus to the right of the foreground. 
After a pause appear, first Ingomar, then Parthenia, 
to the left of the fore- ground, upon the rocky height.) 

INGOMAR. 

This way, Parthenia! 

The path is here. 

PARTHENIA. 

Methinks 'tis yonder. 

INGOMAR. 

No, 

The one you point to leads to a dark glen, 



1IG the son of [Act IV. 

Where pois'nou3 reptiles swarm, but this, into 
The open country. 

PARTHENIA. 

I see the open country- 
Yonder ! 

ingomar {taking her by the hand, and, as he speaks 
the following words, slowly preceding her, and as- 
sisting her to descend the height.) 

Beware! Think how you, yesterday, 
Upon the moor, in spite of all my prayers, 
So obstinately followed your own will; 
How suddenly the ground gave way beneath you, 
And, had I not the shield snatch' d from your arm, 
And thrown it down, so that the broad, firm surface 
Enabled your rash footsteps to withdraw ! — 

PARTHENIA. 

Beyond a doubt, I should have sunk ! 

INGOMAR. 

And I 

With you ! 

PARTHENIA. 

I know you would have sunk with me ! 
I brought ill-luck e'en on the arms I carried ; 
Your shield lies in the moor, and yester-night, 
Upon the heath, where moss and underwood 
Supplied but scanty fuel, you broke up 



Act J.V.] THE WILDERNESS. Ill 

Your spear, and with its fragments fed the flame, 
So to protect me from the rough night frost! 
You faithful guide ! — 

INGOMAR. 

This way, place your foot here. 

PARTHENIA. 

I trust to you, I know you 've always led me 
By the best path, but, this time, I'm afraid • 

INGOMAR. 

And this time too ! — For look, the forest opens, 
And here the hills sink down into the plain ! 

PARTHENIA. 

By Heaven you 're right ! — The wood's thick shadow 
lies 

Behind us, and it seems to me as if — 
I know this spot !— Was it not here that I, 
When for my father's sake I left my home, 
Knelt down upon the threshold of the mountains, 
And humbly prayed the gods to give me courage, 
And strength, and victory 

INGOMAR. 

Here, think you ? No ! 
Sure, you mistake ; your home is yet far off ; 
It must be yet far off 

PARTHENIA. 

No, here, 't was here ! 



112 the son op [Act IV. 

{Turning towards the back- ground.) 
And look, there rolls the sea, and yonder, glowing 
In purple light, stands out Diana's temple, 
Massalia's citadel, my father's roof ! 

{Kneeling down.) 
And here once more I kneel upon the ground 
To you, ye gods, that watched me from above ; 
Accomplished is the mission of fond love, 
Guided by you, again my home I 've found ! 

ingomar {aside.') 
Would that I lay in the moor beside my shield ! 

parthenia (springing up.) 
And soon again I '11 gaze on my dear parents, 
Into their arms with tears of rapture sink, 
"Warm tears of rapture from their glad eyes drink ! 
All hail, Massalia, city of my fathers ! 
A smile from Heaven, plays the evening glow 
On tower and wall, on gate and portico ! 
Long may'st thou thus, high in the clear, pure air, 
Rear the proud battlements with which we 've crowned 
thee; 

Though centuries roll and pass away around thee, 
So may'st thou ever stand in glory there ! 
And you — oh speak then — 

INGOMAR. 

I ? What shall I say 



Act IV.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



113 



PARTHENIA. 

What, do you pout, like an ill-tempered child, 
When Joy is lending pinions to my soul? 
Have you not borne with me the noon-tide heat, 
The midnight frost, the toils of the rough way, 
And are you not pleased at our journey's end ? 

INGOMAR. 

Pleased at our journey's end ? — No I am not ! 

I cannot be ! What cause have I for joy ? 

Oh that yon city in the deep lay sunk, 

That ships were sailing o 'er her palaces, 

That rushes grew where those proud walls are bristling ! 

PARTHENIA. 

What does this mean ? 

INGOMAR. 

Yes, 'tis our journey's end, 
It is the end, and have I cause for joy? 
Alone with you, with nought but Heav'n above us, 
And round us the deep silence of the woods, 
Then I rejoiced ; for then I was your World, 
I, I alone; in the vast wilderness, 
Your home so far, and danger ever near you, 
We clung to one-another, soul to soul; 
But now, yon ramparts fling their icy shadow 
'T wixt you and me, and sever the strong bond 
Of toils and perils shared in solitude ! 



114 



THE SON OF 



[Act 



PARTHENIA. 

They sever naught — Yet, now I think on it — 

Ah ! The thought flashes on me — We must part ! — 

INGOMAR. 

Yes ! You have said it — Part — That is the word ! 
7 T was this that cramped the heart within my breast, 
When first I saw yon towers ! A word to name it 
Was only wanting. You have found it ! Part ! 
Yes, we must part ; for what were I among 
Your polished Greeks, I, the untutored savage, 
Confined within those walls, I, Freedom's child? 
Here we must part ! A last farewell, a glance, 
And your path downward lies to yonder city, 
But mine must lead me back into my mountains ; 
Your footsteps die away ; and all is over ! — 
Woman, I would that I had never seen you ! — 

PARTHENIA. 

Would it were so, and yet — But we must part ; 
It must, must be. 

INGOMAR. 

It must ? And were I now 
To grasp you with strong arm, ev'n as the vulture 
Seizes the dove, and carry you — But no ! 
All that is over ! What would be my gain, 
Should I win you and find your love still wanting ? 
For you can only love some constant heart, 
Whose timid, gentle, patient tenderness 



Act IV.] THE WILDERNESS. 115 

Shall half compel, half yield itself your captive ! 

He must protect you, lead you, carry you — 

Have I not done so ? Say, did I not lead you 

Through wood and glen and o'er the treach'rous moor ? 

Have I not carried you through mountain torrents ? 

And, as the night darker and darker grew, 

Did I not tend our fire till Slumber came 

To take you, weary child, into his arms ; 

And then watch by your side, lest aught should scare 

The rosy dream that dyed your cheek with blushes ? 

I've been a faithful guide ! — Say, have I not? 

PARTHENIA. 

My eyes are running over ! 

(Giving Ingomar her hand.) 

Yes, you 've been 

A faithful guide ! 

INGOMAR. 

See how I 've kept my word ! 
And you, will you deceive my fond reliance ? 
No more of parting ! Stay by me ! Be mine ! 
One of the first am I among my nation, 
My tent, at home, contains piles of rich booty ; 
And fear not the rude laws that govern us, 
Follow the customs of your native land, 
Be mistress over all, and, free as air, 
Obey but your own heart, or Love's fond prayer ! 
Come, Nearest, come ! And then a hut I'll rear 



116 the son oe [Act IV. 

Near some green meadow, with a stream hard by, 

O'ershadowed by the woods' broad canopy ; 

Round us shall breathe, through the long twilight hours, 

The evening gale, the perfume of the flow'rs 

Oh come ! I see it all with fancy's eyes ; 

Consent, be mine, and soon our hut shall rise ! 

parthenia {aside, turning away her face.) 
Ah, how my fascinated ear drinks in 
The honeyed words ! 

INGOMAR. 

What ! You look down ! You 're silent ! 
Do you mistrust me ? By the eternal Heavens 
I spoke the truth ! My hold on you shall be 
As gentle as the tender grasp with which 
Your hand supports the garland that it twines ; 
I '11 read in those bright eyes your every wish ; 
Before you speak, 't is done ! I '11 daily lay 
The timid deer, the roe-buck, at your feet ; 
The scaly tribe shall be your tributaries, 
And all that cleave the air on rapid wing; 
No goodly ship shall pass along our coasts, 
But pays you toll from her most costly freight ; 
You shall be rich, loved, honoured — language fails me ! 
I promise you whatever man can do, 
Only be mine, and speak no more of parting ! 

p asthenia (in violent agitation.) 
No, no ! Away ! Be dumb, ye Siren voices ! 



Act IV.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



117 



INGOMAR. 

You will not ? 

parthenia (recovering herself.) 
Hear me ! 

INGOMAR. 

You believe me not ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Listen to me ! I sympathize with you, 
And more so than you think ; and if you knew — 
But that's a secret between me and Heaven ! — 
Enough ! Know that we maidens, we, at home, 
Although our choice be free, respect as sacred 
Our parents' counsel, that directs our love, 
And mine, I know, would ne'er 

INGOMAR. 

They 're far away ! 
parthenia (laying her hand upon her bosom.') 
Here dwells their image, and here speaks their voice ; 
What, it cries out, and would you, scarce escaped 
From slavery's yoke through the gods' special favour, 
Follow the stranger ; would you then abandon 
Your parents' side, your country, to become 
His wife, the wife of our born foe, a stranger 
Like him, the wife of the 

INGOMAR. 

Why hesitate? 



118 the son of [Act IV. 

Speak out ! The wife of the barbarian ! 

It is their word, I know; and 't is your meaning ! 

PARTHENIA. 

I mean, that yon are noble, brave and good, 

A brilliant star, darkened but by a cloud, 

A cup of gen'rous wine, without its garland, 

And, did not the rude habits of your home 

Cover the precious jewel of your heart, 

As the rough shell the orient pearl doth hide, 

Well might you be a loving woman's pride ; 

E'en Envy must be dumb before your worth, 

And Calumny, though at her utmost need, 

Whisper in wrath : This is a man, indeed ! 

'T were so, had you been only born a Greek, 

Were right, law, order, not strange words to you, 

Were brute strength not your god, the sword your 

judge ! 
Eut thus it is 

INGOMAR. 

G-o on ! Keep nothing back ! 

Pierce me with every arrow in your quiver ! 

PARTHENIA. 

With partial hand the gods endow mankind, 
One receives wealth, another poverty, 
But Love regards it not; some charm by gifts 
That others cannot boast; Love ne'er regards it: 



Act IV.] THE WILDERNESS. 119 

But one thing there must be, on whose firm ground 
The swift-winged fancies of fond hearts can meet, 
'T is Law ; with Social Virtue's guiding star, 
That shines with heavenly ray through Life's dark 
clouds ! 

An equal sense of virtue and of justice 
Must bind two lovers, that respect may chasten 
And nourish the quick glow of youthful passion ; 
And this it is! An ocean lies between uSj 
A broad abyss, that mountains cannot fill, 
'Twixt me, a Greek, and you, a wild Ligurian ! 

INGOMAR. 

A wild Ligurian ! Speak as your thoughts prompt you, 
And say: a thief, a robber, plunderer, 
A cattle-stealer — 

PARTHENIA. 

Ingomar ! — 

INGOMAR. 

3 T is plain ! 

I marked your words ! Yes, now I see it all ; 
You are ashamed of me ! It is enough ! 
You said that we must part, that it must be; 
You spoke the truth ! Be it so ! 

PARTHENIA. 

And will you leave me 
In anger ? Stay, you shall not go, until 
You 7 ve heard me — 



120 the son op [Act IV. 

INGOMAR. 

No ! I '11 hear no more ! My ears 
Have long enough been stung by your harsh taunts ! 
In anger ! — No ! — You speak as they do yonder, 
And in my inmost soul one feeling soothes me; 
We too are men, we rude barbarians ! Boast 
Your soft refinements, measure every step ! 
An honest heart is better far than all, 
And, like the forest pine, grows wild tow'rds heav'n ! 
Remember this, and think of me ! — Enough ! — - 
Farewell ! 

He turns to go.) 

PARTHENIA. 

Farewell ! No, stay ! — You shall not go, 
Without a gift, to keep me in your mem'ry, 
To lend form, colour, substance to my image ! 

INGOMAR. 

It needs not ! 

parthenia {giving him her dagger.) 
Here! 

ingomar (grasping the dagger.) 

This dagger — Do you mock me ? — 
Would you remind me that my frenzy once 
Armed your own hand with it against your life? 

PARTHENIA. 

Let it remind you, that, three days and nights, 



Act IV.] THE WILDERNESS. 121 

Alone with me, you've led me, borne me, watched by me, 
Through mountain, wood and moor, and, all the while, 
I ne'er had need to draw it from its sheath; 
Think upon this, and — Leave me now ! Farewell — 
] ngomar (makes a few impetuous steps towards Par- 

thenia, then stopping suddenly, after a pause.) 
Farewell ! 

(Exit quickly to the left of the fore -ground.) 

PARTHENIA. 

He 's gone ! He 's gone ! Merciful gods ! 

And can he leave me V — Well, then, let him go ! 

If he can quit me thus, why I can bear it ! — 

Did I not bid him go ? Must it not be ? — 

The rocks repeat my words in mournful echoes ! 

How green, how bright it was before, and now — 

How dull the sunshine is, how pale the flow'rs, 

How withered all the leaves! 'Tis as if Death 

Had blasted the sweet promise of young Spring! 

What, tears ? — No, no ! Away ! I will not weep ! 

It is the will of Heav'n ! I '11 seek repose 

In the gods' bosom for my heart's wild throes, 

And may they govern all things to my good ! 

Those gentle deities, how much I owe them! 

My home invites me ; soon I '11 see again 

My parents, playmates, friends ; the faithful dogs 

Spring to caress me ; and, with forced grimaces, 

Salutes me, Polydore, my wealthy suitor! — 
6 



122 the son of [Act IV. 

A chill comes o'er me, as I fancy him ! 
With what rude mock'ry he refused my prayers, 
The prayers that moved the Wilderness's Son ! 
Ah, had I said to him: Help, save my father! 
How little time to think would he have needed! 
How quickly, boldly, he 'd have forced his way, 
Though threat 'ning armies stood to bar all passage, 
And burst his chains, and brought him home in triumph ! 
His heart was true as his own sturdy oaks ! 
ingomar (appearing again on the left of the fore- 
ground of the stage, with slow and lingering steps.) 
Parthenia ! , 

parthenia (crying out joyfully.) 
What, is't you? — come back? 

INGOMAR. 

'Tis I, 

And to speak out at once, I cannot leave you; 
I cannot! No! I am but man! 'Tis vain 
For man to strive to do what Fate forbids him, 
And my Fate tells me to belong to you ! 

PARTHENIA. 

What ! do you mean — 

INGOMAR. 

I 've thought upon it all ! 
You 're not ashamed of me, but of my rudeness ; 
For, though I be no G-reek, I'm still a man, 
And ev'rywhere a man must have his worth ; 



Act IV.] THE WILDERNESS. 123 

An honest man can stand before the gods, 
And why not before you, before the others ? 
It must be so ! Say, is it not, Parthenia"? 
You're not ashamed of me ? 

PARTHENIA. 

Ashamed of you ?— 

INGOMAR. 

I fancied that you were, and, in my folly, 
Blinded by anger, turned my back on you, 
As if my life depended on our customs, 
Which, after all, are like our shaggy mantles, 
Convenient but from habit, from long use ; 
And, now that I have parted with my shield, 
That lies in the moor, and broken up my spear, 
What signifies to me the dress I wear ? 

PARTHENIA. 

What is 't you say ? 
(Aside.) 

Be still, my bounding heart ! 

S INGOMAR. 

'T is feeling stamps the man, and not his dress, 
And, if mine troubles me, why should I keep it ? 
My heart will beat the same in any other ! 
And so I'll throw aside my people's customs, 
And follow you within your city's walls ; 
I '11 make myself a Greek ! 



124 the son op [Act IV. 

PARTHENIA. 

You ! Follow me ?— 

(Aside.) 

Labour not so, my bosom, with thy rapture ! 

INGOMAR. 

I 'm happy now, that I 've made up my mind ; 
I know I 've much to practise, much to learn, 
But, by this light of Heaven, 't is enough 
For me to know this, that it can be done ! 
And then you '11 love me ! Like a cry of viet 'ry, 
Like Heav'n's own voice the thought thrills through my 
breast, 

You '11 yet return my love ! Yes ; you must love me ! 

parthenia (aside.) 
And where, ye gods, is she that must not love him ? 

(Aloud.) 

You say that you '11 go with me to Massalia — 

And have you then some friend there to receive you? 

INGOMAR. 

Some friend ? No, none ! What need of that ? I '11 ask 
The first man that we meet, upon the road, 
For salt and fire ; I '11 speak to those men yonder, 
For by their dress they should be Greeks ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Those yonder ! 
Immortal gods ! If ye thus show 'r all Fortune 
Upon my head in this one fleeting hour, 



Act IV.] THE WILDERNESS. 125 

What will remain for hours, days, years to come ? 
'Tishe! 'Tishe! 

(Sinking into the arms of Myron, as he appeal's, accom- 
panied by Elpenor.^) 
Father ! 

MYRON. 

My child ! My child ! 
Thou here ! In freedom ! Given back to me ? 

Ye heav 'nly pow 'rs, I No ! I do not thank you ; 

Why could ye not have let me set her free ? 

Xf single-handed, would have forced the robbers — 

(Observing Ingomar, and retreating in terror.) 
Help ! Help ! Adrastus ! Elpenor ! Help ! Murder ! 
Quick ! the Ligurians ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Be not afraid ! 
'T was he, 't was Ingomar, that gave your child 
Her freedom, and, with fond, protecting care, 
Has brought her safely back into your arms ! 

MYRON. 

He, sayst thou, he ? And has he come alone ? — 

PARTHENIA. 

He comes to you, a friend, a suppliant, 
And, though he be entitled to demand it, 
Let my petition join with his to urge you 
To show the kindness that he showed to me. 
Listen to him, and Elpenor, meanwhile, 



126 the son op [Act IV. 

Must tell me of my mother, of Theano, 

Of all our friends ; I must know ev 'rything, 

For absence lends the smallest news a value. 

myron (who, in the mean time, conducted by Par- 

thenia, has approached Ingomar ; aside.) 
He 's come alone ! That is another matter ! 

(Aloud.) 

Welcome upon Massalia's territory ! 

I did not think we'd meet again so soon. 

INGOMAR. 

Nor I, indeed ; but stranger things have happened ! 

MYRON. 

'Tis true. 

INGOMAR. 

Parthenia has just said to you, 
That I would beg a favour, and 't is so ; 
In few words I ask for much. Will you be 
My friend, nay more, will you become my master, 
Give me your hand to guide me as your pupil, 
Take me beneath your roof, teach me your customs, 
That 1 may be a Greek among you Greeks ? 
This is my prayer ! All this I ask of you ! 
Do not refuse me ! — 

MYRON. 

What? What say you? I, 
Take you into my house ? 



ACT IV.] THE WILDERNESS. 



127 



INGOMAR. 

'T will be my home, 

And sacred to me ! 

MYRON. 

What ! Your home ? You think 
To make your home with us in earnest ! Would you 
Learn Grecian customs, and from me ? — How close 
The air is here I — 

(Aside.) 

The fellow, to be sure 
Is strong ; he 'd make a stout apprentice I — 

INGOMAR. 

Speak! 

What is your answer ? 

MYRON. 

Take it not unkindly ; 
I feel how great my obligation is ; 
But I am only a poor armourer, 
And if you'd be my guest, why you must share 
The cares and toils of poverty with us, 
Subject yourself to all our household rules 

INGOMAR. 

I '11 bow to all of them ! 

MYRON. 

First, you must lay 
Aside this wild beast's skin 



128 



THE SON OF 



[Act IV.. 



INGOMAR. 

Good ! Be it so ! 

MYRON. 

Then you must let your hair and heard he shorn 

INGOMAR, 

My hair and heard ! With us they are the signs 
Of free descent, the freeman leaves them free ; 
But then, my freedom — Good, they shall he shorn ! 

MYRON. 

Thus far 't is well enough. 

{aside.) How tame he's grown, 

And no unbroken horse was once so wild ! — 

(aloud.) 

So much for that ; hut I have more to say ! 
I have fields, meadows, loaded vineyards too 
On yonder hillside, and they often need 
The plough and harrow, here and there ; and then 
You too must help 

INGOMAR. 

Gods ! Would you have me labour 
With plough and harrow, do the work of slaves, 
Make holes about the ground like moles and badgers 1 

MYRON. 

Why, what 's all this ? 

INGOMAR. 

Slaves only till the ground, 
'Mong us at home ; 'tis only fit for slaves ; 



Act IV.] THE WILDERNESS. 129 

And think you then to make a slave of me ? 
By the loud thunder 

MYRON. 

Gently, now, I beg you ! 
Heaven knows, I do not want to have you with me ; 
'T was your own fancy to become a Greek, 
And we 're a race that cultivate the earth : 
Each one lends a hand, when need may be, 
Not only I, Actsea too, my wife, 
And my girl there, all of us have our share 

INGOMAR. 

Parthenia, say you ? 

MYRON. 

Ay ! Who else ? She helps 
As much as any one — 

INGOMAR. 

Parthenia, too ! — 
And after all, it matters not what work 
One does; if 'tis done freely, 'tis not slavish; 
Be it so, then, I yield ! 

MYRON. 

That being settled, 
You '11 help me when I labour at my anvil ; 
You '11 not object, I hope, to making swords ? — 

INGOMAR. 

Not 1, indeed ! There strength contends with strength ! 

6* 



130 the son of [Act IV, 

" Yield ! " roars the hammer, and the steel cries, 
" Never ! " 

Hey ! Making swords must be a pleasant thing, 
Almost as pleasant as to wield them — — 

MYRON. 

Wield them ! 

No, I said nothing about wielding swords ; 
"We are a quiet people and love peace ; 
And, by the by, 't would be as well you gave me 
Yours there at once ! — 

INGOMAR. 

My sword ? 

MYRON. 

Why certainly ; 
It is forbidden, with most heavy penalties, 
To wear arms in Massalia ; so give it me, 
I '11 keep it for you ! 

INGOMAR. 

Give you up my sword ? 
This sword, my father's legacy — 

( Tearing his sword from its belt, and holding it to- 
wards Myron; violently.) 

To which 

I 've owed so often booty, victory, life ! 
I, let this sword be taken from my side ? — 

myron (retreating from Ingomar in terror.) 
Parthenia ! — 



ACT IV.] THE WILDERNESS. 



131 



INGOMAR. 

My faithful brand I yield 
But with my life's blood, on the battle-field ! 
I and my sword are one ! 'Gainst sword and man 
Come, then, who will, and take it, he who can ! 
parthenia {who has, till now, been conversing apart 

with Elpenor, approaching,) 
What 's this dispute ? 

MYRON. 

He will not give his sword> 
And heavy penalties, thou know'st, forbid 
To carry arms within Massalia's gates. 

parthenia. 

Why, he who 'd end a thing, must needs begin it ! 

(Going up to Ingomar, taking the sword out of his 

hand, and holding it out to Myron.) 
There is the sword ; and now — the sun is setting, 
I long to see my mother, let us go ! — 

MYRON. 

He 's given up his sword ! What will come next ? 
Thou free ? — This sword ! — But homewards now, my 
child, 

So that thy mother share our joy the sooner ! 
Elpenor, thank the honest fishermen ! 
But, luckily, we need their aid no longer ; 
Come on ! 



132 the son of [Act IV. 

(Exit, with Elpenor, and Parthenia, to the right of the 
back-ground of the stage.) 
parthenia (turning round, in the act of going.) 
Why do you linger, Ingomar ? 
ingomar (starting, as from a dream.) 
What ? Ingomar ! Was that name meant for me ? 
Am I then Ingomar ? How changed I feel ! 
My brain 's on fire ; all things about me reel ! 
I scarce believe that ever I was he ! 
(As he slowly follows the others, the curtain falls.) 



Act V.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



133 



ACT V. 

(Scene as in the First Act.) 

elpenor (coining out of Myron's house, and speaking as 
to one within it.) 

Come, Myron, come ! Make haste ! They 're waiting 
for you ! 

myron (appearing on the steps of the house.) 
Here am I ! I '11 be with you in a trice ! 
I was but taking off my working- dress, 
To appear with due respect before the Council. 

(Calling as to one within the house.) 
My girdle here, Actasa, and my mantle ! 

ELPENOR. 

I '11 go before, and say that you are coming 

MYRON. 

But tell me first, are the strange tidings true, 

That with pale cheek you whispered in my ear ? 

ELPENOR. 

The heights are swarming with Ligurians, 
The Fathers summon you before the Council ; 
'T was but the truth I told you ! 



134 the son of [Act V. 

ACTiEA (who has meanwhile come out of the house, ac- 
companied by Parthenia, the latter carrying Myron's 
girdle and mantle.) 

Gracious gods! 

What did you say? — 

MYRON. 

Naught that concerns you, woman ! 
Parthenia, my mantle ! 

ACT^JA. 

Myron ! Speak ! 
Are the Ligurians before our gates ? 

MYRON. 

What if they are ? They are not yet inside ; 
Our locks and bolts can only yield to treach'ry ! 

ACT^IA. 

Ay, and they will ! For lurking treason hides 
In every corner ; and there '11 be no want 
Of traitors to assist our foes : there 's none, 
Perhaps, already 

MYRON. 

What ? No want of traitors 

Already, say you ? 

ACTiEA. 

'T was not without reason 
That on the hearth the fire began to crackle, 
As first he trod our threshold ! We were warned ; 
But 't was in vain ! — 



Act V.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



135 



ELPENOR. 

She must mean Ingomar, 
Your pupil, once their chieftain ! — 

MYRON. 

Is it so ? 

Do you mean him ? Then there 's no cause for fear ! 

PARTHENIA. 

He is no spy, no traitor ! 

MYRON. 

No, indeed ! 

He 's like a dye that neither fades nor changes ; 
Look how he labours at the plough, the anvil, 
And 't is enough ! He 's strong, and feeble natures 
Alone are false ; so 

ELPENOR. 

Will you never come ? 

They 're waiting ! 

myron (half dragged away by Elpenor.) 

So cheer up, and let thy fancy 
Be no more troubled by such groundless fears ! 
The Fathers, beyond question, would consult me, 
As one who 's had to do with yon barbarians ; 
Therefore take heart ! Never a hammer yet 
But found its handle, and here too we '11 find 
Some way to manage matters. I, for one, 
I fear not these Ligurians ! Not I ! 
I 've given proofs of it 



136 the son of [Act V 

elpenor {dragging him off.) 

Come, come, I say ! 
{Exeunt both in the back- ground.) 

He 's gone, and all my anxious cares return ! 

The foe before our gates ! He straightway summoned 

What if, instead of asking his advice, 

'T were to demand strict reck'ning for his folly, 

To punish him perhaps 

PARTHENIA. 

Be not uneasy! 
The Fathers knew all about Tngomar, 
And they were willing that we should receive him. 

ACT^IA. 

Alas that we e'er did so, ever harboured 
One who has brought ill-luck upon our house ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Methinks 't was he that brought you back your child. 

ACTiEA. 

Was it not he, moreover, that once drew 

His sword upon thee, and dragged off thy father 

To be his slave ? Can any good thing come 

To us from him ? No ! The first look I gave him 

Went to my heart ! His long and matted hair ! 

His tangled beard ! — 

PARTHENIA. 

But now he wears them both 



Act V.] the wilderness. 137 
As the Greeks do 

ACTiEA. 

The children in the streets 
Called out, as he went by : "A fawn ! " "A satyr ! " 
For shaggy skins were all that covered him ! — 

PARTHENIA. 

You know that now he 's dressed like one of us. 

ACTJ3A. 

'T is true he wears the Grecian vest and mantle; 
But mien and gait, the harsh sound of his voice, 
The fierce defiance of his looks and words, 
Mark him for what he is ! Although he 's laid 
His savage dress aside, he 's still a savage, 
The odour of the woods will never leave him. 

PARTHENIA. 

That may well be, for freedom, courage, strength, 
Breathe through his words, ev'n as they do in him ! 

ACTiEA. 

The bear's rude strength ! Did he not well nigh strangle 
His adversary in the wrestling-match 
At the last Games, Diana's festival, 
And with the cestus strike another dead ? 

PARTHENIA. 

But then who slew the wolf, that had so long 
Ravaged the country, and but lately, when 
Lysippus' bark was struggling with the storm, 



138 the son of [Act V. 

Who ventured out to aid and rescue him ? 
At plough and anvil who but he relieves 
My gray- haired father, spares him ev'ry toil ? 

ACTiEA. 

I know he does it, and he knows it too, 

Plumes himself on it, scarcely shows me rev'rence ! 

But, though he take on airs as if he were 

As true as gold, I '11 stand to what I say: 

I fear he 's hut a spy, a lying traitor, 

And I '11 just tell him so ! Ay, to his face ! 

"Where is he ? — 

(Calling towards the house.) 
Ingomar ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Pray do not, mother ! 
Honour the laws of hospitality ! 
His heart knows neither treach'ry nor deceit ! 

ACTJ3A. 

Trust to me ! — 

(Calling.) 
Ingomar ! — Thou 'It see, thyself, 
How he '11 change colour, be confounded, tremble ; 
Happen what may, I '11 try him ! Ingomar ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Ah ! What deep wrong you do that child-like nature, 
That noble heart ! — 



Act V.] the wilderness. 139 

ingomar (coming out of the house, and descending 
the steps.) 
I 'm here ! Who is it that wants me ? 

ACTJEA. 

You 've come at last ! Three times I had to call you ! 

INGOMAR. 

What with my hammer's noise, and my own singing, 
It is no wonder, faith ! — 

ACTiEA. 

Singing ? — No doubt 
Your people's coming makes you sing for joy ; 
But you 've not heard, perhaps, that all about us 
They lie encamped ! 

INGOMAR. 

My countrymen ! — They've taken 
This road into the Allobrogian country ! 
For I must tell you we 'd resolved to make 
A foray 'mong that nation ! — 

ACTiEA. 

Ah! Indeed! 

A foray in the Allobrogian country ! 
And you '11 avail yourself of the occasion 
To show some kindness to old comrades 

INGOMAR. 

No! 

Why should I do so ? Let them go their ways, 
I 'U follow mine. 



140 



THE SON OF 



^ [Act V. 



ACTJEA. 

But there are certain persons 
Who fancy, who conjecture, who maintain 
That yours and theirs are much the same ! 

INGOMAR. 

What say you ? 

My ways and theirs 

ACT^SA. 

Yes ! They go even farther, 
And say that you have only crept in here, 
To open to your friends the city gates ! 

INGOMAR. 

Who says it ? 

ACTiEA. 

1 ! I say it to your face, 
I say that you 're a traitor and a spy ! 
You know it ! 

ingomar [striding impetuously towards Actcea.~) 
Woman ! Let me tell you — 

No ! 

You are not worth it ! 

(Exit into the house.) 

ACTJ3A. 

Gone ! And no reply ! 
Does he make light of me ? What ! Does he think it 
Not worth his while to clear himself before me ? 

And can he dare Must I put up with this, 

I, Myron's wife, a woman of Massalia ? — 



Act V.] the wilderness. 141 

parthenia (going towards the house and calling.) 
Here ! Ingomar ! 

ACT^A. 

Why call him V Wouldst thou have him 
A second time insult me with his rudeness ? 

PARTHENIA. 

No ! You shall have an answer ! I will make him 
Account to you 

ACT^SA. 

I '11 hear no answer now, 
Although it were — But where are my thoughts running, 
While danger threatens thus thy father's life ? 
I '11 follow to the palace ! Listen thou 
To Ingomar, believe him, as thou 'rt wont ; 
To Heaven's good pleasure I must be resigned, 
But I see through him, me he cannot blind! 

(Exit on the left of the hack- ground.) 
parthenia (walking up and down, with an air of vex- 
ation.) 

She's gone in anger, and he 's much to blame for it, 
Yes, very much, though she be in the wrong ! 
(Ingomar comes out of the house and slowly descends 
the steps with his eyes fixed on the ground. ) 
parthenia. 

He 's there ! — Come hither ! — Tell me, know you not, 

Our gentle manners have long since removed 

The yoke from woman's neck, made her man's equal, 



142 the son of [Act 

To be his mate, to share in all his rights ? 

INGOMAR. 

I know, 7 t is as you say. 

PARTHENIA. 

Ought you not, therefore, 
Always to treat my mother, Myron's wife, 
With due respect ? And do you call it then 
Respect, in scorn to turn your back upon her ? 
How often have I told you about this ! 
How comes it then you pay me no regard ? 

INGOMAR. 

You told me of it ; but you told me, too, 
That, should your mother, as old age is wont, 
Wound me in outbreaks of her groundless spleen, 
I should make no reply, but leave the spot ; 
And so it was I did ! 

PARTHENIA. 

And could you not 
Coolly and calmly look her in the face, 
And tell her : No ! You wrong me ; I am neither 
Traitor nor spy ! But you once more must give 
The reins to your quick passion, and then leave me 
To bear alone the brunt of her displeasure ! 

INGOMAR. 

You angry too ? 

PARTHENIA. 

Will you then never learn 



Act. V.] the wilderness. * 143 

To take men as you find them ; ere you speak, 

To weigh your words and measure what you 'd say? 

INGOMAR. 

I'll never learn it, never ! Oh, what pains 

I took to grave your lessons on my heart, 

Repeating them as I lay down to sleep, 

Feeding my thoughts with them at plough and anvil, 

In hopes the sooner to acquire your ways, 

Your ease, your elegance, your polished manners ! 

I '11 never learn them ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Nay ! Keep up your courage ! 

You have done wonders ! 

INGOMAR. 

Ah, my native woods ! 
There, words are the pure coinage of the heart, 
And thought and language have an equal weight ; 
But all your actions are bound up in phrases, 
" Grood day," " I thank you," " May I take the free- 
dom!" 

You call that civil, polished, mannerly ! — 
It is not in me, and I '11 never learn it ; 
Whatever moves me, be it love or hate, 
Pleasure or pain, it streams forth from my lips, 
"Works in my features, sparkles in my eye ! 
I cannot help it ! I am what I am ! 
My nature cannot change ! 



144 



THE SON OF 



[Act V. 



PARTHENIA. 

Nor do I ask it ! 
I would not have you other than you are ; 
I 'm well content to know that what your look, 
Your voice, your changing features speak, is true, 
Is genuine all, all truly, deeply felt ; 
But e'en the candour of a noble spirit 
■May need restraining! Think how much you've 
learned ; 

You honour Law and Order, you 've abandoned 

The blood-stained worship of your country's gods 

For our mild faith with its fair train of Arts ; 

You are a Greek already in your heart, 

Grace and proportion may be wanting still, 

But they will come ! The man who from rough stone 

Would call a god-like statue into life, 

Must needs have patience for the last fine touches ! 

ingomar (approaching Parthenia.) 

And when I 've learned it all, when my task is done, 

Parthenia, 

parthenia {retiring a step.') 

But you have not learned it yet ; 

'T will be a long, long time — 

INGOMAR. 

You 're ever thus 
You ne'er reward your scholar's diligence, 
But place the goal still farther on before him*; 



Act V.] the wilderness. 145 

Nay, you deny me all that you once granted ! 

Once you would visit me, encourage me, 

Sing me a song perhaps, tell me a story, 

But now you shun me, now you fly my presence ! — 

PARTHENIA. 

Who is it, then, that 's speaking to you now ? 
This also you must learn, whene'er it come, 
To take with thankfulness the happy moment — • 

INGOMAR. 

Yes, while you speak, while thus your eye meets mine, 

The past recedes, the future I resign ; 

As my rapt soul drinks in the heav'nly rays, 

Like airy clouds they vanish from my gaze ! 

myron {behind the scenes.) 
Parthenia, Parthenia ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Hark ! My father ! 
myron (at first behind the scenes, then appearing, in 

haste, with Actcea anxiously following him.) 
Parthenia ! Come hither ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Here I am, father ! 

MYRON. 

? T is well ! Where 's Ingomar V Here also ? Good ! 

ACTiEA. 

What is it ? Speak ! What drives you through the 
streets, 

7 



146 the son op [Act V. 

As if beside yourself ? Will you not tell me ? 

MYRON. 

Let me have air ! — Let me take breath ! — Know then, 
He '11 be here in a moment 

ACTMA. 

Who? The foe? 

MYRON. 

The foe ? — G-o to ! — My lord the Timarch's coming 
To speak to Ingomar 

AQTMA. 

You see it now ! 
I told you he would bring ill-luck upon us ! 

MYRON. 

You told me nonsense, then, for he will bring us 
Credit and honour ! There they are already ! 
Remain here by the house ; and I, meanwhile, 
Must go and welcome him — 

ACT.&A. 

He ?— Credit ?— Honour ? 
My heart is beating like the great forge-hammer ! 
the timarch (who has in the meantime appeared, 

accompanied by a train of attendants, to Myron, 

who receives him with deep bows.) 
Myron ! Enough ! Let us to business ! 
Where is your pupil ? 

MYRON. 

Here, illustrious sir ; 



Act V.] the wilderness. 147 

An't please you, go with him beneath my roof! 

tim arch (giving his train a sign to retire.) 
It needs not ! "We 're alone here with your household ! 
Draw near, my friend ! — Your name is Ingomar ? 

INGOMAR. 

You have said it ! 

mtron (in a low tone to Ingomar.) 

Say " Sir."— Do you hear me ?—" Sir ! " 

ACTJ5A (in a low tone to Myron.) 
Ay ! 'T is worth while to try to teach him manners! 

TIMARCH. 

They tell me that you 'd learn our Grecian customs, 
That you 've already learned them, and would even 
Be one of us, Massalia's citizen ! 

INGOMAR. 

It is my wish 

TIMARCH. 

Massalia grants the wish ! 
A house within the circuit of her walls 
She '11 build for you, and adds three fertile acres, 
Conferring on you ev'ry civic right 

INGOMAR. 

On me? 

parthenia (aside.) 
Ye bounteous heavens ! 

myron (to Actcea,) 

How now, wife ? 



148 



THE SON OF 



[Act 



TIMARCH. 

Yet more ; for Myron shall have thirty ounces 
Of silver as his daughter's dower, and she 
Shall be your wife, the mistress of your house ! 

INGOMAR. 

Parthenia ! 

TIMARCH. 

All this you shall call yours, 
When you 've once shown us, by undoubted pre of, 
That you sincerely wish Massalia's good ! 

INGOMAR. 

What must I do ? Speak, and unless you bid me 
Lift up the earth, and bear it from its seat, 
Drain the vast ocean, pluck down stars from heaven. 
All else I promise, be it what it may ! 

TIMARCH. 

Then listen to me ! The Ligurians 
Surround the city ; you yourself, who once 
Were one of them, must know this people best, 
Their love of plunder, and their savage valour ; 
And as they now approach with hostile purpose 

INGOMAR. 

'T is to attack the Allobrogians, 
Not you, believe me — 

TIMARCH. 

Be that as it may, 
They ? re dangerous ; and so Massalia thinks, 



Act V.] the wilderness. 149 

With your stout help, for many a coming year 
To keep such scurvy neighbours at a distance ; 
Therefore attend to what we 'd have you do : 

(Taking Ingomar a few steps on one side.} 
You must go out to the barbarian camp, 
As if you came to pay your friends a visit, 
And hear the latest tidings from your home ; 
Then, having marked the favourable moment, 
Observed the walls, the gates, the sentinels, 
And learned the watch-word, you return at evening, 
To lead by night Massalia's armed battalions 
Against the robbers, that the self-same fate 
Which they full many a time have brought on others, 
O'ertake them suddenly from vengeful hands ! 
And this is all we ask ; when you 've done this 

INGOMAR. 

I will net do it — 

TIM ARCH. 

What say you ? 

MYRON. 

Ingomar ! 

INGOMAR. 

I say I will not do it ! You may seek 
Some other tool to serve your treach'rous purpose ! 
I '11 not deceive those who confide in me, 
Betray them in their sleep, give to the knife 
Those whose lips speak the language of my home 1 



150 



THE SON OP 



[Act V 



TIMARCH. 

You will, if you but think on the reward 
That Myron, that Massalia offers you. 

INGOMAR. 

I give up all, for she — she is my all; 

A thousand tendrils bound my life to hers, 

And one spring-day would have clothed all in blossoms 

And yet I give her up, for were she mine, 

And had I ev'ry earthly bliss in her, 

The thought were madness, that I'd purchased it 

By the base murder of my sleeping brethren ! 

TIMARCH. 

What? Is your heart so set on their advantage ? 
I thought you 'd be a Greek? 

INGOMAR. 

It was my purpose ; 
I broke the bonds that knit me to my people, 
To seek me a new home within your walls, 
And it was in good faith, and I 'd have fought 
Faithfully by your side in open battle ; 
But treacherous villainy is all you think of, 
The arms you wield are cunning and deceit ! 
Oh! shame upon you! 

TIMARCH. 

Tame your hasty tongu 
And know that till the mid- day hour be past, 



Act V.] the wilderness. 151 

I grant you a brief season to reflect 

If you will yet accede to our proposal : 

If you refuse, your breath, perfidious man, 

Shall not infect our air a moment longer ! 

Then exile, or worse punishment, befall 

The traitor and the spy ! So take your choice ! 

And, Myron, as for you, since your advice 

Led us to put such confidence in him, 

So blindly, have a care, for, should your faith 

Be ever found of the same stamp as his, 

Which you 've so often vaunted to the skies, 

7 T is likely we should find its measure scant, 

And it might need your blood to make it full ! 

(Exit with his train.) 

ACT2EA (after a pause.} 
Who was right now ? Where is the credit gone ? 
The honour that your Ingomar should bring us ? 
He brings our daughter into bad repute, 
And you into suspicion, and may bring, 
For aught you know, your gray head off your shoulders ! 

MYRON. 

My gray head off my shoulders ? He must leave us ! 
I '11 have no more to do with him ! Off with you ! 
I shut my doors against you ! They shall see 
That I 'm Massalia's son and burgher true ! 
Into the house with you, Parthenia ! 



152 the son of [Act V. 

(Tb Ingomar.) 

Off, I say! 

INGOMAR. 

Myron! 

myron {while Actcsa and Parthenia go into the house.) 

Silence ! Not a word ! 
'T is true there 's no one by, and so I '11 tell you, 
In spite of all you have brought upon me, 
That, if I had two heads, I would, Heaven knows, 
Right gladly part with one of them for you ; 
But I have only one ! Therefore begone ! 

(At the top of his voiced) 
I am a true man and good citizen, 
So get you gone at once ; I turn you off! 
{He goes into the house likewise, and shuts the door 
after him. ) 
INGOMAR. 

'T is past ; all hope has perished, all is over ! 
The future lay so clear, so bright before me ; 
For, though I ne'er believed that I could earn her, 
I would have won her by untiring love ! 
But now all 's over, all is lost ! She '11 never, 
Never be mine ! Never ? Not see her even, 
Never more hear the music of her voice ? 
Never again ? — 

I need but have said " Yes ! " But though I had 
A thousand years allowed me to reflect, 



Act V.] the wilderness. 153 

I must say " No ! " and nothing else but " No ! " 

It may be that I was too harsh, too rude, 

"Where milder words had been of equal service, 

But where was I to find them ? Can I hide 

The honest thought that boils up from my soul ? 

What though I were to study years on years ? 

I would not then, nor would I ever learn it ! 

I am a savage, and 'mong savage beasts, 

The tenants of my woods, Fate drives me back ! 

"Why linger, then? Let me begone at once ! 

And if, in coward fear, lest I should rouse 

My people to take vengeance, they deny 

Me passage, I '11 break through their ranks or die ! 

I must begone ! — 

parthenia {who, during Ingomars last words, has 
come out of the house and approached him unob- 
served.) 

Will you then leave us, Ingomar ? 

INGOMAR. 

The gods will have it so, and we must part, 
For nothing can avail against the gods ! 

PARTHENIA. 

But whither will you go ? 

INGOMAR. 

Ah, ask me not 

Whither I go ! There are two places only 
7* 



154 the son of [Act 

For me on earth ! A heaven where you are, 
Where you are not, a desert ; and 't is thither 
My path now leads ; the Wilderness' s Son, 
Back to my mother I direct my steps ; 
She gave me truth for my inheritance, 
And I must guard it undefiled towards those 
Who are my brethren, though they be barbarians ! 
For, without truth, the soul drives to and fro, 
A reed, a helmless bark where storm- winds blow, 
And though I ne'er had felt it until now, 
I must have learned it when I first saw you, 
For who can truly love and be himself untrue ! 

PARTHENIA. 

And must you go ? — 

INGOMAR. 

I must. — I owe you much 
Rude strength was once to me the test of greatness, 
And life was like a flagon full of wine, 
Then most attractive when it most o'erflowed ; 
But you have twined the garland round its border, 
Taught me in strength to honour gentleness, 
To look for graceful forms in noble deeds ; 
From you I've learned the magic charm of Love, 
Whose bliss makes mortals equal to the gods, 
Whose very pain is ecstasy and rapture ! 
All this I owe you, and I had, methought, 



Act V.] the wilderness. 155 

One day requited you with happiness, 
Such as ne'er yet fell to the lot of woman ! 
But now all that is past, and 'mid the loss 
Of ev'ry blessing, robbed of ev'ry hope, 
My only comfort is that I 've done rightly ! 
And so farewell ! I bear your image with me ! 
May mine dwell here ! Parthenia, fare-you-well ! 

PARTHENIA. 

But go not thus upon the instant ! Go 
Not thus ! 

INGOMAR. 

A sudden death brings one sharp pang, 
To linger is to die a thousand times ! 
I know it gives you pain to see me leave you, 
And that suffices ! Farewell ! 

PARTHENIA. 

You 're resolved, 
And I '11 no more dissuade you ! But the sword 
That you entrusted to my father's care ; 
You will not leave your sword ? 

INGOMAR. 

It matters not ! 
The hope that made me yield it from my grasp 
Is now no more ! — 

PARTHENIA. 

But you would miss your sword ; 



156 the son of [Act V, 

To me you gave it, I must give it back ! 

(Exit quickly into the house.) 

INGOMAR. 

No, no, Parthenia ! — Stay ! — In vain ; she 's gone ! 
And thus one bitter hour 's prolonged to ages, 
While ever fiercer burns this torturing pain, 
As if t would kill, and yet it kills me not ! 
Oh, cruel mockery ! The bond of life 
Yields to the sharpened steel, and yet defies 
The spirit's torment, sharper yet than steel ! 

parthenia (returning with the sword.) 
Here is your sword, and bright as when you gave it 
I 've kept it for you ! — 
ingomar (extending his hand towards the sword.) 
Thanks ! 

PARTHENIA. 

But let me bear it 

INGOMAR. 

What did you say ? 

PARTHENIA. 

Was it not I that carried 
Your spear and shield ; and why not now your sword ? 

INGOMAR. 

Ah, then indeed — No ! Go no farther with me ! 
Let us part here, and let us part at once ! 

PARTHENIA. 

Suffer me, Ingomar, to bear your sword ! 



Act V.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



157 



INGOMAR. 

Well !— Only to the market ! 

PARTHENIA. 

To the market ! 
And yet a little farther ! — To the gate ! 
And farther yet ! — To the sea-side ; and o'er 
The sea, and over plain and over mountain, 
Towards east or west, where'er your path may lie, 
"Where'er your wandering steps may chance to bear you. 
Until our journey done, at Death's black ford 
This heart shall beat no more, I '11 bear your sword ! 

INGOMAR. 

What would you do, Parthenia ? 

parthenia (letting the sword fall, and throwing her- 
self into Ingomars arms.) 

Follow you 

Where'er you go ! Your pathway shall be mine, 

And mine the home you seek ; my native land 

Be where you build your hut ; I '11 speak the tongue 

That flows in untaught accents from your lips, 

What gives you happiness shall make me blest, 

All that you suffer I will bear with you : 

I 'm yours, I 'm yours, and now no more of parting !— 

INGOMAR. 

Immortal gods ! Am I the sport of dreams ? 
You lie upon my breast, you love me, you 
Massalia's child, the stranger, the barbarian? 



158 



THE SON OP 



[Act V. 



PARTHENIA. 

Oh call yourself no longer by those names ! 
What are we by your side ? How they all gazed 
Upon you, the vain G-reeks, ashamed and speechless, 
When you, who came to learn their arts and laws, 
Taught them the greatest and most sacred law 
That Heaven itself has graven on our hearts ! 
How great, how glorious did you stand before me, 
As you gave up, rather than not act rightly, 
More than your life, your whole life's fondest hope ! 
Ah, how I blushed that I had thought to teach you, 
And what ? Such things as I myself had learned 
With pain, despite the habit of long years, 
Mere lifeless forms, and words, and tinsel toys, 
When you 'd received out of the gods' own hand, 
The genuine gold we think not to demand, 
The soul's strong impulse that constrains to truth ! 
And I had dared to wish by rule of art 
To bind in lying forms your noble heart ? 
Forgive, forgive me ! Now I see my error ; 
To be a G-reek is nothing ; worth's sole test 
Is a true heart like yours, lodged in a manly breast ! 

INGOMAR. 

Parthenia mine ! Or do my senses mock me ? 
Can this be real ? — 

PARTHENIA. 

Long, long have I been yours ! 



Act V.] the wilderness. 159 

Since first you learned to weep and fear my anger, 
Since from the hand you raised against my life 
You dropped the naked sword ; for, since that day 
One thought, one feeling stirred within our souls, 
One hope, one wish filled both our throbbing hearts ; 
To hide it from you day by day I strove, 
And felt the more the daily growth of love ; 
I loved you ; but to-day first felt your worth, 
And, if I once, vain of my Grecian birth, 
Fancied that you must earn me, if my pride 
By such hard proofs your patient love has tried. 
For all my blindness let me thus atone ; — 
By ev 'ry title yours and yours alone, 
Wife, handmaid, slave, whatever name be just, 
Here at your feet I bow me in the dust ! 

ingomar {quickly raising her.) 
You at my feet ? You be my slave ? Ah, no ! 
Let us be rather like two trees that grow 
From one sole root, inseparably twined, 
Their leafy boughs in one sole tree combined ! 

( While Ingomar and Parthenia, fondly embrace, My- 
ron and ActcBa appear, coming out of the house.) 

ACTiEA. 

Will you believe me now? 

MYRON. 

Thunder and lightning! 



160 the son of [Act V. 

Hey ! What 's all this ? Wouldst bring my neck in 
peril ? 

Into the house with thee, thou shameless hoyden! 

parthenia [throwing her arms around Ingomar.) 
Not without him ! 

ACTjEA. 

She '11 drive me frantic ! 

myron (to Ingomar.) 

What ! 

Did I not say you were no more my guest? 
Did I not bid you look for other quarters ? 
Take yourself off at once ! 

INGOMAR. 

Not without her ! 
She's made her choice, you cannot part us now! 
She 's mine, she 's mine as long as life shall last ! 

MYRON. 

Why, man, you 're mad, you 're raving ! 

ACTiEA. 

As I live, 

The Timarch's coming back! — 

MYRON. 

Just at this moment ? 

Now my ill-luck 's complete ! — 
act^ea. 

And at his side 

Two fierce barbarians ! — 



Act V.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



161 



MYRON. 

What ? They have not, surely— 
Ah no! I see they're carrying green branches; 
'T is, without doubt, some peaceful embassy ! 

ACTiEA. 

What is about to happen? — 

MYRON. 

Hush, they 're coming tow 'rds us ! 
{enter Timarch, attended by his train, and accompanied 
by Alastor and Novio, who carry green branches in 
their hands.*) 

TIMARCH. 

Here is the man to whom you have been sent, 
And now, I pray you, let us know your message! 

NOVIO. 

Tis he! 

ALASTOR. 

'T is he, indeed ! 
{Striding towards Ingomar.) 

Ho ! Ingomar ! 

INGOMAR. 

What, do I see aright ? You here ? 

ALASTOR. 

We bring yor 

Greeting from all our nation, Ingomar ! 

INGOMAR. 

I thank you for it. Say, what would you! 



162 



THE SON OF 



[Act 



ALASTOR. 

Listen ! 

Our long intended foray in the land 

Of the Allobroges had led us hither, 

When we were told that one of our race 

"Was living 'mid these Greeks in servile station 

NOVIO. 

So we concluded that Massalia's townsmen 
Had doubtless waylaid you in some sly ambush, 
And dragged you off their captive and their slave- — 

ALASTOR. 

Both chiefs and people were incensed at this, 

And they forthwith despatched us to these Greeks, 

To see if you be really now their slave, 

You, once the pride and glory of our name ; 

If it be so, we '11 make, instead of war, 

A treaty with the Allobrogians, 

With the Helvetians too and with the iEduans, 

And in united force besiege the city, 

Nor rest until this insult be avenged ! 

TIMARCH. 

No, worthy envoys of a noble people, 
The bounteous gods forbid that idle tales, 
And groundless fancies, born of vain suspicion, 
Should lead Gaul's valiant nations to take arms 
And wage stern warfare with our humble town ! 
You are mistaken ; our friend yonder 



Act V.] the wilderness. 163 

ALASTOR. 

Hold there ! 

It is to him we're sent, so let him speak ! 

NOVIO. 

Speak out and fear not ! Tell us the plain truth ! 
They made a slave of you ! 

INGOMAR. 

I am a freeman ! 
It was my own free choice that led me hither ; 
And if I here filled but a servile rank, 
7 T was my own will that laid the yoke upon me ! 

ALASTOR. 

It was your own free will ? Well, let that pass ; 
But say, how have you fared among this people ? 
They think themselves of nobler blood than we, 
And call us all Barbarians ! So tell us, 
Have you been treated as an honoured guest ? 

NOVIO. 

Did they not wound you with their sneers and taunts, 
Were you allowed each right and privilege 
That others here enjoy ?— 

ALASTOR. 

Speak, and Massalia 
Shall lie in ashes, if a single word, 
A glance has wronged you ! 

timarch (favmingly.) 

Suffer me, dear friends, 



164 the son of [Act 
To give my evidence 

ALASTOR. 

No ! Let him speak ! 
timarch (alarmed.) 

I pray you, listen to me 

ingomar {To the Timarch.) 

Be not anxious; 
What need I say, but that, this very hour, 
You offered me the rights of citizenship, 
A house, a farm, and my Parthenia's hand 
To crown the whole 

NOVIO. 

Parthenia ! Our slave ! 

ALASTOR. 

Can it be she that has estranged you from us ? 
If it be so, enough ! Farewell ! We '11 march 
This very day against the Allobrogians ; 
Peace be unto Massalia ! 

timarch. 

Let us have 

Yet more than peace, let us enjoy your friendship, 
And since one of your nation has been honoured 
Like the born citizens of this our state, 
Permit our townsmen to go unmolested 
Among your mountains, with the sacred rights 
Of hospitality ! Accept the league ! 



Act V.] 



THE WILDERNESS. 



165 



ALAST0R. 

Our powers are not sufficient; come with us, 
Hold council with the- leaders of our people, 
And hear what they determine — 

TIMARCH. 

Be it so; 

I '11 follow you : and may the bounteous gods 
Look kindly on our purpose ! Come — but first 
A word to you, my trusty Ingomar ! 
(JELe advances with Ingomar a few steps into the fore- 
ground, while Alastor and Novio turn towards the 
back- ground of the stage.) 
When you, but now, refused to aid our plans, 
Meaning to throw a better in our way, 
You proved yourself a true man and a wise one ; 
And so we give you, even as we promised, 
The hand of Myron's daughter, thirty ounces 
Of silver, and a goodly house therewith, 
And grant you all a citizen's just rights. 

(To Myron.) 
Here is your son-in-law! I wish you well! 
{Exit in the back-ground, with the Ligurians and his 
train.) 

MYRON. 

Prithee, good wife, who now was in the right ? 
Is this a son-in-law, with house and farm, 
And thirty ounces, and a townsman's right? 



166 



THE SON OF THE WILDERNESS. [ACT V. 



ACT^IA. 

He'll never be aught else than a Ligurian! 

INGOMAR. 

Parthenia won, and mine for evermore ! 
I scarce believe it! In my hour of need 
The fatal bolt thus warded from my head, 
The gods appeased, and I so gently led, 
So swiftly, to my goal 

PARTHENIA. 

Thus Love doth lead! 
( While the lovers embrace, Myron and Aetata standing 
by, the curtain falls.) 



THE 

SON OF THE WILDERNESS. 

A DRAMATIC POEM, 

IN FIVE ACTS, 

BY FRIEDRICH HALM, 
[baron munch -bellinghausen.J 



TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN, 

BT CHARLES EDWARD ANTHON. 
NEW-YORK : 

PRINTED FOR THE TRANSLATOR BY H. LUDWIG & CO. 
No. 70 Vesey - street. 

1848. 



H285 83 ** 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS f 




020 517 465 5 



